"On the flight home I overheard him talking to Roman. Roman asked him why he let me think that this wasn't a lifetime commitment and Dmitri had the fucking gall to say that he knows that I love him even though I won't say it, and that eventually, I'll be fine with it."
My voice is rising, and I dig my fingernails into my thighs, forcing myself to calm down. "On the way home from the airport something bad happened." I'm still staring at my fingers, flexing against my leggings. "Don't ask me what. It was horrible. But the worst part was what Dmitri said to the bad guy and howhappyhe was. His eyes were gleaming. He had a look of joy I've never seen."
"I'm assuming you had it out when you got home and you're on lockdown," she asks. "Since the only way we're allowed to see each other is by me coming here,"
"I'm not sure what he thinks I could do. This is just so…" I put my hands over my face, hiding my wet eyes.
Priya puts the backpack she brought on her lap, pulling out a small briefcase. Her fingers drum on the leather.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Her voice is barely over a whisper.
Wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand, I say, "I don't see how. Even if I could get away, it's likely the traffickers will find me and kill me."
"Maybe not," she says, putting my hand on the briefcase. The leather is cool under my fingers. Leaning closer, she whispers in my ear. "This is called a bye-bye briefcase. Kabir's work in cybersecurity puts him in contact with a lot of shady people. Far shadier than I knew, in fact." She doesn't look pleased by that revelation. "This briefcase is an instant do-over kit. ID, passports, there's a bank account with a small starter fund of money and disguises until you can make the physical changes that match the pictures on the ID. You can slip out of the city and be on a plane anywhere within hours."
She puts the case on my lap, opening the lid. There's a neat row of documents, a wig, a bag full of what I'm guessing is makeup and prosthetics, glasses, and contact lenses in two different colors.
"You have got to be kidding me," I whisper. "How did he pull this off?"
She shrugs. "A coworker owed him a favor."
"I can't." I shut the lid and try to push it back to her. "Priya. This is insane. This must've been so expensive."
"We are way past money now," she whispers sharply. "And this isn't just about you anymore."
My stomach contracts as the realization hits me, because she's right.
"I guess it's good that you ignored my advice about telling Dmitri about the baby, after all."
"There would be no way he'd let me go," I agree numbly.
"If you think that there is not a chance in hell that Dmitri is the man you thought he was, then you need to consider running. But from the beginning, he had no reason to protect you, and he did. Look, don't make a decision right now," Priya says. "You're not in the right mind."
My fingers are tapping against the briefcase,tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap,some manic Morse code signaling my desperation and fear. "I can't tell if I'm angrier, more heartbroken, or more afraid of him," I say.
"Well, the order is going to be important," she says. "If it's fear, you need to get the hell out of here right away. If it's heartbreak or just being pissed off, you need to think this through."
"I was so angry," I bury my face in my hands. "He told me I was perfectly comfortable with violence when I was being protected, that I was selfish and a hypocrite. He told me I was a coward. That he despises cowards."
"Pissed off is definitely the winning emotion for me here," she says dryly.
"But is he right?" I ask, staring out the window. There's a woman in the building across from us on her stair climber, her ponytail is bouncing behind her and she's singing along to something. Giving the bounciness of that ponytail, probably Taylor Swift.That's an expensive stair climber. They had one at the last gym I joined for the free introductory month. I should work on my core strength before this pregnancy goes any further so I have a better… Oh, fuck.
Focus, damnit!
"I'm so sorry," I say. "Our friendship has been unequal for so long, you've done everything to support me. I don't feel like I've given anything back."
"You're apparently forgetting The Great New Year's Eve Blowout," she says, "when you held me down in the kitchen so I didn't stab my mother-in-law for telling me my ass was too big for that dress."
"Oh yeah, that sucked." I agree. "She gets mean when she's had too much to drink, though."
"Which is why we can't keep wine in the house anymore," she sighs. "And when I was up for a board review and you stayed up all night helping me study? I'm not that noble, honey. Look, there's no rush. This is a decision you cannot make today." She glances at my stomach. "It's not just about you. It's not even about just you and the baby."
We find a hiding place for the little briefcase, tucking it into a box of extra linens on the top shelf of the closet. "When was the last time you ate?" she asks.
"Yesterday, I think." I say. "Come on. Let's go to the pantry and bust out some of that gourmet herbal tea that was made by Himalayan monks. There's a bakery down the street that delivers and we can have pie."
"An entire pie," Priya agrees as we head down the hall.
