When he had poured her glass of champagne, he had slipped a little something extra into it. He had practiced just such a move his entire time here in Geneva, and it went effortlessly. It was just a tiny pill—it fell out of his sleeve, into his hand, and then into her champagne flute. It wouldn’t make her sleep, or pass out. It would simply multiply the effects of the drink, make her feel spaced out, and help her enjoy herself a little more. She might become a little confused. She might become more trusting than she otherwise would be.

He tapped her shoulder, very lightly. It was the first time he had touched her. She turned to him as if she had been waiting for this all along. He leaned close to her, but did not touch her. She took a sip from the flute of champagne.

“Do you want to dance?” he said, not shouting, but loud enough for her to hear over the thump of the music and the chatter of the crowd.

She nodded.

“Yes.”

He held a hand out to her and she took it. Her skin was white and her hand was soft in his. He stood and led her away from the table.

He waded into the crowd of strangers toward the dance floor, the President’s daughter holding his hand.

* * *

The champagne had gone to her head.

It was just a few sips, half a glass, but she was not a drinker. It hit her like BOOM. She kind of liked the feeling it gave her. She still had the glass in her hand. She took another sip.

They went out to the dance floor, where the crowd was thickest. People crowded in on all sides, some dancing with drinks and entire bottles of champagne in their hands. It could be New Year’s Eve. The bass pumped, making the shimmering purple dance floor tremble. She and Ahmet began to dance, moving just a little, still more than a foot apart.

Ha! The feeling was getting stronger. It surprised her. She was flying. She had never felt like this before.

Ahmet moved gracefully for a man. He started to break it open, arms and legs moving. He could dance! He was a show-off!

She laughed. Maybe he would twirl her.

Suddenly, a black light began to strobe, and people would seem to stop in a freeze frame, then disappear. Dancing, dancing, STOP, then disappear again.

Women in the crowd screamed and raised their drinks in the air each time it happened.

Elizabeth was about to do the same. But then she looked at Ahmet.

Something about him had changed.

The crowd moved around and behind him, STOPPED, then disappeared into the dark. Another scream went up, and a second later, the people materialized out of nowhere again.

Ahmet was holding his head. His handsome face seemed anguished, in pain.

He STOPPED, then disappeared.