Kak raised a hand to shield the glare of the morning sun. The black ink staining her fingertips hung like dark clouds in her upper periphery. She hadn’t tried to clean it off since they’d taken her prints during processing. She wasn’t going to try.
The rear fuselage door to the Beechcraft King Air B200 popped loose from its seal, swinging open and down like a loose tongue eager to lap her up. Philip smiled and waved from the doorway. Smiled and waved. As if he was flying in for the weekend and not retrieving his fiancé from her night in jail after assaulting two police officers. She didn’t bother acknowledging him. Not even when he tried to put his arm around her as she boarded. She pushed past into the small but luxurious cabin, stooping in the low headroom to see what she was dealing with.
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