Hiding behind a pillar, Zane kept his eyes fixed on his wife, who stood alone amid the crowded airport. Even here, surrounded by the noise of rolling suitcases and overhead announcements, she stood out to him, small, nervous, wrapped in the white coat he’d insisted she wear that morning to protect her from the cold.
His jaw tightened as he watched her scan the crowd, her fingers curled tight around the strap of the bag she carried, a bag full of jewelry and cash they’d prepared together the night before, every piece chosen carefully to look convincing. She couldn’t see him from where she stood; he knew that. But he also knew she could feel him. She always could. It was in the way her shoulders had eased, just slightly, the moment she stepped into the terminal, as if some part of her alrea
