She was right. I’d always been fascinated by the girls in the dorm who would dye their hair blue or purple on a lark. But I’d worried that it wouldn’t look nice on me, so I never ended up taking the leap.
My red hair was also one of the few ways that I was like my mom. She was outgoing, charming and could work a room better than anyone I’d ever met.
At the parties she would host at our home when I was little, she could often be found by the sound of her distinctive laugh as she chatted with whatever business person was trying to wheedle an investment out of her. All the while being dressed casually in a sea of elegance.
By comparison, I was always a quiet child hiding under a table with my books and wishing everyone would go home early.
“I did want pink hair, but I’m not sure this is a good idea…” I trailed off, running a finger along the jaw of the model on the box.
Wendy’s exasperated sigh filtered through the speaker. “I’m not telling you to dye it right now, silly, you need to throw dumb ass off the trail first. Remember our plan?”
“I do. Is everything I need in the bag?” my palms were suddenly sweaty again.
“They are, start with phase one and call me when you’re safe, I love you, babe.”
My eyes stung with tears. “I will, I love you too Wen, more than you know.”
She had quite literally saved my life, and I would never be able to repay her for it.
Wendy sniffled and I could hear Reggie soothing her in the background.
“You get out of there safe, Mina.” With that my friend hung up, leaving me standing by myself.
The immediate silence was suffocating and I willed my limbs to start moving.
Over the past year, I’d created an escape plan with Wendy. It had been part-dream, part-reality at the time. But now I need every part of it to work.
Digging through the bag I found the little pre-paid shipping box that would fit my cell phone.
Briefly, I’d considered just leaving my phone at the house. I knew he was tracking my location with air tags and other devices. I’d even cut one out of the bottom of my duffel when I first started packing my bag two months ago.
Wendy came up with a better idea for the device, though. I unlocked my phone and turned on battery saver mode. It was at 60% battery. In a perfect world it would have been at a full charge so it would stay on until it reached its destination, but this would have to do.
I fired off a quick prayer that Mike would stay knocked out until after the mail was picked up in the morning and dropped the package into the mailbox.
“Have fun on your trip to Florida, asshole,” I muttered under my breath as I flipped the hood of my jacket up and began the fifteen-minute walk to the bus station.
Even at nearly eleven o’clock at night the bus station was bustling. Long-haul buses were weaving in and out of the station, and sleepy people were getting off and on as they transferred or were picked up by family members.
In the front of the backpack was a stack of papers. I don’t know how Wendy had done it, but she’d somehow managed to get all new documents for me. I suspected her husband, Reggie, had something to do with it. I knew he worked for the government, but nothing more specific than that.
Obviously he knew how to pull strings, because I had a new ID, passport, and even a new social security number.
Then my eyes found my new name and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Daphne Clarke.
I was surprised Wendy remembered my telling her that my mom’s nickname for me when I was a child had been Daphne. She used to tell me I looked just like the cartoon character from Scooby Doo, one of her favorite television shows.
Suddenly, I was glad that I never told Mike that little anecdote.
Stepping on the bus, I offered the leopard beastman bus driver my ticket and my ID.
“Daphne?” the man asked, looking down his long nose at me, yellow slitted eyes taking in my face and hair. “Like from Scooby Doo?”
“My mom really liked the cartoon,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
The man just harrumphed. “I was always more of a Yogi Bear fan myself. Anyway, you better settle in. It’s a long way to Omaha.”
