The private exit turned out to be far less glamorous than I expected.
There was no red carpet.
No line of black SUVs surrounded by men wearing sunglasses.
Just a quiet service corridor, a concrete stairwell, and a security employee who looked as if he had skipped lunch.
Two men waited at the bottom.
One was tall and broad-shouldered, probably in his forties, wearing a gray suit without a tie.
The other was younger and carried a tablet.
“Mr. Prescott,” the older man said.
“Daniel.”
His gaze moved toward me and Lily.
Not suspiciously.
Professionally.
“This is Elena Walker,” Adrian said. “And her daughter, Lily.”
Daniel gave me a small nod.
“Ma’am.”
The younger man stepped forward and handed Adrian a phone.
“We confirmed the number.”
“Anything else?”
“It’s registered to Ethan Walker. Dallas address.”
I hated hearing my life summarized in clipped facts.
Name.
Number.
Address.
As if everything that had happened could be reduced to a database entry.
“Did he make any threats?” I asked.
Daniel looked at Adrian first.
Adrian immediately gestured toward me.
“Ask her questions directly. This is her situation.”
Something in my chest loosened.
Daniel turned back to me.
“No, ma’am. Nothing threatening. He told the airport employee he was trying to reach his wife because of an urgent family matter.”
“I’m not his wife anymore.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Then I corrected myself.
“Technically I am. We’re separated.”
Daniel nodded without reaction.
“He called twice.”
“Did he know my flight number?”
“We don’t know.”
“Did he know I was with Adrian?”
At that, Daniel paused.
“We believe so.”
Adrian straightened.
“Why?”
“The second time he called, he asked whether Elena Walker had been seen leaving with Mr. Prescott’s party.”
I stared at him.
“He used Adrian’s name?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Adrian.
“How could he possibly know that?”
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
The younger security man did.
“There were photographs online before the aircraft landed.”
My stomach dropped.
“What photographs?”
He turned the tablet toward us.
The image was slightly blurred.
But there we were.
Adrian in the aisle seat.
Me against his shoulder.
Lily sleeping across my chest.
From the angle, we looked almost intimate.
Almost familiar.
Like a tired couple traveling home with their child.
Underneath was a social media caption.
SPOTTED: Adrian Prescott finally off the market?
