Chapter 7

As I shut the door behind me, a chill raced down my spine. This felt different from my encounter with the flight attendant. The men hadn’t followed me because I was attractive or anything as ridiculous as that. I hadn’t caught their eye, but they had definitely been watching me. Actually, I’d seen those two far more often than I should have—even before boarding the plane. That must be why they seemed so familiar. I was almost certain they were the same men who had been staring at me while I was talking to Marisol.

I shook my head, attempting to dispel the unease, and splashed cold water on my face. “It’s probably nothing,” I whispered, though I didn’t believe it.

To distract myself, I started rummaging through Marisol’s cosmetic bag. I was right—it was crammed full of lipsticks. The thought of Marisol getting ready with only one makeup item made me smile. Boys must have liked dating her, I mused, since she probably never kept them waiting long. She carried only the essen