Going downstairs, I saw Marco leaning against his car, smoking. When he saw me coming, he immediately crushed the cigarette and walked over to take my suitcase.
"All packed?"
"Yeah."
He put the suitcase in the trunk, then opened the passenger door for me.
The car started again. We picked up Marco's grandmother first, then headed together toward Kennedy Airport. The whole way, Marco kept trying to distract me with conversation. He told us about Italy's culture and customs, Tuscany's cuisine, stories from our childhood, and raved about how amazing his grandmother's lasagna was.
"When we get there, I'll take you both to Florence. Elena, you've always wanted to see Michelangelo's David, right? We can go to Rome too, and Venice."
"Thank you, Marco."
He glanced at me and smiled. "Why are you being so formal with me?"
"No, I'm serious." I looked at his profile. "If it weren't for you, I don't know what would've happened tonight."
"Then don't think about it." His voice was gentle. "From now on, you need to look forward."
I nodded.
I pulled out my phone—no calls or messages from Igor. I laughed bitterly. He wouldn't even think to look for me, wouldn't imagine I'd actually leave. He was too busy celebrating his engagement with his fiancée to remember me.
I turned off the phone without expression.
At the airport, Marco showed capabilities I'd never seen before. He didn't take me to the regular counters but led me through an employee passage to meet someone who looked like a ground crew manager. They exchanged a few words in Italian, the man nodded, and quickly got me a boarding pass to Rome with the name "Sofia Rossi."
"A fake identity to get you out safely." Marco handed me the boarding pass and a new passport. "Don't worry, it's safe. A friend from the organization helped out—they're professionals at this stuff."
I took the passport that didn't belong to me, staring at that strange name, my heart full of uncertainty about the future.
After security, Marco, his grandmother, and I sat in the departure lounge. I still felt like I was dreaming. Just hours ago, I'd been fighting with Igor in the snow—no, I'd been confronting him one-sidedly. And now, on this Christmas night, I was about to fly to another country to start an unknown new life.
"Nervous?" Marco sat beside me and took my cold hand.
I shook my head, then nodded.
He smiled and squeezed my hand tighter. "Don't be nervous or worried. Everything will be fine. A new life is waiting for you. Once you get to Tuscany, you'll fall in love with it. There are ancient vineyards and the most beautiful sunsetsin the world."
"Sounds beautiful." I forced a smile.
"More than just sounds like it." He said seriously. "When you see it with your own eyes, you'll find it's even more beautiful than you imagined. And the pace of life there is so slow, not frantic like New York. You can sleep in every day, drink cappuccino at little town cafés, buy fresh ingredients at the market..."
His hand was warm and strong, giving me some sense of security.
"Will you always be there?" I suddenly asked.
"Of course." He answered without hesitation. "I already found a new job there—a community clinic with good pay."
The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. We got up and walked to the gate. When the plane took off, I pressed against the window, watching New York's lights spread beneath me like a brilliant sea of stars, slowly shrinking until they disappeared into the thick clouds.
Goodbye, New York.
Goodbye, Igor Vorontsov.
Chapter Seven
Igor
