Sanem was very quickly understanding how precarious the situation in Kansas was. In her rented car, the ride to the airport at four in the morning hadn’t been too alarming. But once she got there and waited... and waited... and waited, and by eight, she was thoroughly panicked. No one had shown up to the airport, not even staff, and she hadn’t heard so much as a car on the road from where she stood. Her phone’s battery was dying quickly--she’d been on there all morning trying to get in contact with her ex-husband. “Thomas, this isn’t a joke. Something is seriously wrong here,” she hissed into the receiver. “Please, call me back, I want to speak to my daughter.” She hung up, hands trembling as she glanced back out towards the road. Red, hot tears of frustration fell down her face as she looked down at her phone, fully prepared to dial the same number she’d been calling all morning.
Suddenly, the sound of her frantic breathing wasn’t the only thing she could hear. Footsteps. She froze, realizing that she was utterly defenseless. She turned, prepared to run if she needed to, but the face looked so familiar it gave her pause. She squinted, and as the morning light gave it more illumination, she called out. “Eren Demir?” She hadn’t seen him since boarding school, and despite the dire circumstances, she was relieved to see a friendly face. “Sanem Aydin,” she reintroduced. “We went to school in England together. I was a year or two under you.” She’d had the biggest crush on him, not that that mattered much anymore.
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