The first headlines expressed shock.

IRENE FOSTER VANISHES OVER SAHARA!

Frantic Search for America’s Flying Sweetheart!

Husband Clings to Hope: “Irene Can and Will Survive Any Disaster!”

Across America and around the world, people who had forgotten all about the crash landing in the Pacific eight and a half years earlier, the frantic suspense as the navy combed the ocean for some sign of Irene Foster and Sam Mallory—and say, wasn’t there some scandal about Hawai’i, some dirty photographs?—now recalled the excitement of those three weeks. They gathered over radios and newspapers, inside barbershops and outside newsstands, and discussed the latest developments, the desperation of poor George Morrow who had dedicated his life and his career to his brilliant wife. Nobody even noticed when the first airplane crossed the finish line in the Round the World Air Derby; today, not even the most ardent student of trivia can name the man who piloted that ship. (For the record, it was Art Landon, who hadn’t heard the news about Irene and was shocked to learn that he’d won; he then spent a week with the search team, flying over the desert in search of wreckage.)

All that effort and expense, you might think! All those pilots who put themselves and their airplanes in danger to look for Irene, when she wasn’t anywhere near the Sahara! All those newspaper headlines, all that suspense shared by the citizens of the world! How could Irene subject everybody to such an ordeal? Disappear without trace? Surely she knew there would be a search, there would be reporters dispatched to North Africa, there would be millions of dollars wasted on her behalf!

In fact, she did understand all those things, which was why she posted an express letter to George Morrow at the Anfa Hotel in Casablanca, the night before she departed Alexandria. In this letter, she informed her husband that she was irrevocably in love with Sam Mallory, was carrying his child, and had flown her airplane to join him instead of finishing the race. She asked George to forgive her and not to look for her, because she did not want to be found. She thanked him for all he had done for her, and wished him nothing but happiness in the future. She left it to him what to say to the press, but she trusted that he would encourage them to leave her in peace with Sam and their child, and allow her to find the contentment she had sought in vain all these years. (With love and gratitude, Irene.)

According to the hotel’s records and the testimony of the bellboy who delivered the letter, it arrived in George Morrow’s hands the next day while he sat in the lobby, waiting for news of his wife. He gave the messenger a ten cent tip and opened the envelope immediately.