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rural roads as soon as possible. From there, the drive was mostly quiet besides the random directions that Penny gleaned from a paper map she’d had rolled up in the car.

Every so often, I’d see her looking at me from the corner of my eye, and I couldn’t place the expression. I wanted so badly to ask what she was thinking, to put her at ease somehow, to make sense of this all. But, I had no way to do it. So, I just drove in silence, urging my sick stomach to forgive me for forcing it through this jerking, tumultuous journey.

A few hours into the drive, she spoke, “We should get some food and gas, I think.”

“I hope that we’ll be safe here, but I can’t know that for sure.” I answered, steadying the wheel. It was difficult for me to drive and speak.

“I’m pretty hungry. Maybe I can just put on a hat and stop in somewhere quick? If people might recognize us, I’ll buy some hair color and sunglasses. Do you have long sleeves to cover up your tattoos?”

“Oh, yes.” I answered and then added, “What makes you think of all of these precautions?”

“I . . . um . . .” she started, “I had a stalker once and had to be really careful for a while. Learned to change a lot of my habits.”

“I’m sorry.” I was flooded with guilt for being another source of anxiety for her.

“He’s not a problem anymore,” she said. “I just never thought . . .”

“What?” I asked.

“I just didn’t think lightning strikes twice is all,” she answered with finality.

Eventually, Penny saw a small store that sold vehicle fuel. We stopped, and she showed me how to fill the car with gas. She covered her hair with a hat that had been rolled up in her pack and went inside. She returned with her hands full of plastic bags like the ones that congregated in trash islands in the Pacific.

We drove on, and watched as the sun began to fade along the coastline, casting its likeness along the water. My eyes moistened. I’d taken my ocean home for granted, and now it was lost to me. In my peripheral vision, I could see Penny looking at me again, and I was surprised to feel her hand on mine.

***

“Turn here,” Penny said quietly. “This is the place. Let’s get the bags and get inside.”

Obediently, I pulled over toward a large patch of trees. Just passed them, down the path, a simple home began to emerge. A single story with a few squat windows and an outdoor sitting area in the front. But, as simple as the home was, the view behind it was magnificent with the multicolored sunset cascading over the beach just below.

I went to the trunk to get our things and looked around cautiously at the beach and the dark house before us. We approached it silently, and Penny reached out for my hand. I wasn’t sure if it was to comfort me or to keep track of me, but I was glad either way.

Unlike her apartment, there was a pad of numbers on this door, and she entered a code. There was a click as the door unlocked, and she pushed it forward, revealing a pitch black sitting room. She closed the door and then punched in more numbers to the touch screen inside. A disembodied voice said, “Security system engaged,” and I jumped.

“It’s just the alarm system,” she said. “If any of the windows or doors open, that voice will tell us. We’re safe in here. But, just in case, let’s check everything out.”

Still holding my hand, she led me through the house from room to room in the dark. We leaned into closets, checked under the seating, rummaged through chests, and squeezed behind the large bookcases to be sure that nothing looked suspicious. Once we were satisfied, we peered out the windows to see if anyone had appeared outside since we arrived.

We were alone here. Then, she led me to the modest bedroom in the back of the house where we took all of the bags of supplies and our things. Next to the bedroom was a wash area where she began to unload some of the items she’d brought and purchased.

“I think this is the best room because the windows face the coast over there and the woods to the south. The master bath, here, faces north. So, we can see quite a bit from here without leaving.”

I had no better ideas, but somehow, I doubted that this would protect us from the best trackers and brightest minds of the tsez̈ø. Now that we were no longer in motion, my mind had time to catch up with me, and I was frazzled. In my head, images of our capture, played over and over again.

***

“Have you ever dyed your hair before?” Penny asked.

“Hm?” I half grunted, still lost in my thoughts.

“Your hair,” she answered, “have you ever dyed it a different color before?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Okay,” she answered, “I’ll help you with it. You just have to be careful because this is the cheap stuff. It’ll stain your skin, and it burns if you leave it on too long. I think we need to cut your hair too. That should change your appearance quite a bit.”

She walked into the bathroom with the items, and I heard the bathtub begin running water. A flash of the blood at the inn lit up behind my eyes, and I winced. I shoved the thought down to ignore it. No matter what I did, though, all I could see were my mistakes, my traumas, my failures.

Penny on the other hand, seemed to be almost unphased by it all. When I walked deeper into the bathroom, she barely noticed me as she laid out towels and all of the tools in the hair dye boxes. It perplexed me that she had such a singular focus until I came

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