With nothing left to do, Keira dragged her heavy case toward the bus terminal where she was supposed to be boarding an ongoing bus to Positano with her guide. Despite all the setbacks, she felt good for having survived alone for so long. Bryn would be proud, she thought, of her little sister acting so independently.

The Salerno bus terminal was little more than a few parking bays. Keira headed toward the red coach which had a sign saying its destination was Positano. But it was as she got on board that she realized that the guide was supposed to be supplying the tickets. And thanks to the pickpocketing, she had no money to pay for one. Once again, things had taken a turn for the worst.

“I was pickpocketed in Naples,” she explained to the bus driver.

He looked at her with an unimpressed expression. “And?”

“And would I be able to take the bus to Positano?”

“Without paying,” he added. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

Keira could already tell this was going terribly.

“Look, I can give you my business associate’s information. She’ll pay you after.”

“I’m not a taxi,” the man replied gruffly. “I can’t send you an invoice!”

He waved Keira off.

She stepped off the bus again, starting to feel anguished. Why hadn’t the new tour guide come to meet her? This was turning into a disaster.

Just then, Keira saw a sightseeing bus pull into the terminal and a family of American tourists climbed out. They were clad in hiking gear, the dad with a huge camera around his neck, the mom wearing a fanny pack. There was a little kid with them too. Keira had never felt so happy to hear her language spoken in a familiar accent, or see a little slice of home.

“Excuse me!” she said, hurrying up to them.

The father of the family turned, his expression revealing his surprise to be approached by a fellow American.

“Hey, what can I do for you?” he asked, his accent strong and southern.

“I had my money stolen in Naples,” Keira told him. “I was just wondering if you might have some spare euros I could use to get a bus? I just need to take a connecting bus to my hotel and then I’ll be able to speak to my company back in New York and have some money wired over. I can give you my card.” She went to open her purse, then realized all her business cards were in her wallet. “Scrap that. I can give you my details and I can pay you back.”

“Oh no,” the man said. “I sure would like to help but we just spent all our money on souvenirs.” He opened up his bag, showing an array of ornaments. He closed the bag again. “I’m sorry, miss. I’d love to help out a fellow countrywoman if I could.”

“Hank,” the woman who Keira assumed to be his wife said, “what about the pass?”