I’m drinking a cup of coffee at the counter of a Waffle House at Peachtree Industrial and Clairmont, a mile up the street from Peachtree DeKalb Airport, when Ethan’s Corolla pulls into the parking lot. I lay a five-dollar bill down on the counter and step outside as Ethan is taking my duffel bag out of his back seat.

“Thanks for bringing my stuff,” I say.

He hands me my bag. “It’s not a long flight,” he says. “Maybe an hour and a half. There’s a bunch of hotels by the Detroit airport.”

I’m touched that he looked at flight times and hotels for me. “Thanks,” I say again, slinging the bag over one shoulder. “You’re not always a pain in the ass.”

“You aren’t leaving, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

We stand looking at each other in the parking lot. Overhead a plane comes in for a landing, a whine of engines and blinking red and green lights in the night sky. Ethan looks pointedly at the bag on my shoulder.

“It’s a change of clothes and some ID,” I say. “I’m just flying to Detroit. I’ll be back by tomorrow night.”

I realize some emotion is working itself out in his face. “You just left, last time.”

I steel myself and then step forward and hug him. Caught off guard, he stiffens before hugging me back.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say into his shoulder. I pull back and look him in the eyes. “I promise.”

He nods, as if not trusting himself to speak, then clears his throat. “Be careful.”

I assume a puzzled look. “Have you met me?”

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. I cinch the duffel bag’s strap tight, then get on my bike and ride out of the parking lot, not looking back.

The plane is a Learjet 75 Liberty and belongs to a service owned by a former telecom exec who once needed my uncle’s help. Part of my uncle’s agreement with the man was access to a plane whenever he or his lawyer might need it. I called Johnny Shaw earlier from the Waffle House and he told me which hangar to go to and the names of the pilots. “Were you in Doraville earlier tonight?” Shaw asked me on the phone.

“No, why?”

“No reason, just a gas explosion that killed two cops and totaled a house.”

“That’s terrible.”

There was a pause, and then Shaw hmph-ed. “Have a safe flight, Susannah,” he said before hanging up.