Chapter 5

The hours before the flight went strangely smooth. Denise handled everything—the ticket separation, the seat assignment, the security clearance, the small smile she gave Maggie as she handed over the new boarding pass. "You've got an hour and a half," she said. "Plenty of time for a coffee."

"Thank you." Maggie took the boarding pass and held it like it was something precious. It was. It was proof that she was doing something, going somewhere, being the person she had forgotten she could be.

She found a café near the gate, a small island of chrome and green chairs in the middle of the terminal. She ordered a black coffee and sat down at a two-top table near the window, where she could watch the planes roll past on the tarmac.

Richard had not followed her. She wasn't sure she wanted him to. The last thing she'd seen of him was his face in the doorway of the security office, his eyes on the floor, his mouth set in a line of hard-won realization. He was still out there somewhere, processing what had happened, maybe too ashamed to face her. Maybe too scared she'd walk away.

She didn't know if she would. She didn't know anything except that she was done being the woman who endured.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Richard's name on the screen.

**Richard:** Can we talk?

She stared at the message for a long moment. The coffee sat in front of her, steaming. Outside, a 737 lifted off, its engines roaring.

**Maggie:** I'm at the café by gate 12. Come if you want.

He came. It took him ten minutes, which was about the time it took for him to walk from the security office to the gate concourse, hesitating at every turn. She watched him approach through the glass, his cardigan still buttoned wrong, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was carrying something heavy.

He sat down across from her in the green chair. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I saw Brooke leave," he said finally. His voice was rough, as if he'd been crying. "She called me. Said she was taking a cab home. Said she— said she didn't know when she'd talk to me again."