As the sky lightened to pink, a gray parrot flew up onto the railing of the balcony and squawked at her, twisting its head right and left. Before she could react, it flew away.

Rick seemed to take that as a cue. He stood and said, “I have to get back to my room.”

She’d love to have the night never end but knew he was right. She stood as well and walked him to the door. Gripping the handle, she looked up at him. “Do you think I’ll ever see you again?”

He cupped her cheek. She leaned into his hand, enjoying the warmth, the feel of the rough calluses on his palm. “Goodbye, Cynthia. It was a pleasure some of the time—when it wasn’t a big problem.”

As she opened the door for him, she laughed. “Goodbye, Captain Norton. Thank you for saving my life a couple of times.”

He paused and looked back at her. “Not a problem.” With a wink he walked down the hall.

After Cynthia watched the sun rise, she finished packing. At nine o’clock, a Secret Service agent would knock on her door and take her to the airport.

She left the dresses hanging in the wardrobe and called the front desk to have them returned to the store where her father had purchased them. She had only her backpack in the way of luggage.

Before she left, she wrote a letter to Ayo and another to Tadeas, who had a postal box in Yambuli, explaining what had happened the night before and her father’s demands that she leave the country. She promised to pray for them and try to find a way back. She asked Ayo to pack what was left of her belongings and have them sent to her. Even as she wrote it, she imagined that the Chukuwereije soldiers had burned the huts down. Anything she had left would have been destroyed.

She didn’t see her father before or after she boarded the Boeing C-32, the jet modified until it was worthy of the call sign Air Force Two whenever her father was aboard. He stayed secure in his office inside the plane, and she chose not to approach him. She remained in a secluded area, away from the press corps but not mixed in with her father’s staff.

His aide handed her a garment bag and said, “It’s twenty-two degrees in Maryland, Doctor. Your father thought you might not have appropriate apparel.”

She glanced in the bag and saw a thick sweater and a wool coat. She thanked the aide, then hung up the bag in the closet near the bathroom.