On the flight back to New York, I kept the transfer printout open on the tray table. I read the date, sender, recipient, and memo until I knew them by heart.
I bypassed Moretti Tower and drove straight to the private airfield in Teterboro. Chloe had already booked a departure slot.
She was halfway up the steps of a chartered Gulfstream when she saw me on the tarmac. Her raised foot stopped over the next step. Then she gripped the rail and turned to face me.
“Adrian, thank God. We have to leave. Everything is collapsing.”
I walked toward the plane and held out my hand. With the jet engines whining behind her, Chloe hesitated.
She finally gave me the passport. I tore it in half, then tore the halves again. The pieces fell onto the wet tarmac.
Chloe stared at my empty hand.
I dropped t
