11Yulia
“Hey.”
A quiet rapping on the window draws my attention. Startled, I look up and see the dark-haired young woman from before—the one I thought was Lucas’s girlfriend.
“Hey,” she repeats, pressing her nose against the window. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Yulia,” I say, deciding I have nothing to lose by talking to the girl. At least I’m not naked this time. “Who are you?”
“Yulia,” she repeats, as though committing my name to memory. “You’re the spy who caused the plane crash.” She says that as a statement, not a question.
I look at her silently, letting none of my thoughts show. I have no idea who she is or what she wants from me, and I’m not about to say anything that would get me in trouble.
She nods, as if satisfied by my non-response. “Why did Lucas bring you here?”
Instead
