The text message on the disposable phone, one resembling her old work phone, instructed her to pull over on I 80, at mile marker 145. With each mile she drove toward Des Moines, the mile markers decreased while her anxiety proportionately increased.

The phone in her hand and the folder of information on the passenger’s seat were the extent of preparation she’d received for her escape. Everything happened so fast Claire hadn’t even had a chance to look through the material. After she reentered the house from the patio, her new phone and the folder of information were waiting on the small dining table within the suite. Part of her wondered how Catherine had been able to supply her with so much support so fast. After all, Claire’s decision to leave the estate was only minutes old. While light overtook the sky and she neared her designated mile marker, multiple questions swirled through Claire’s mind. She tried desperately to push away the uneasiness.

She cranked the radio and air conditioning, plummeting the car’s internal temperature while simultaneously increasing the interior volume. Curiosity was powerful but not as powerful as sleepiness. She needed her eyes to remain open.

In the distance, waiting at her designated mile marker, Claire saw a dark gray SUV. Suddenly, her need for rest evaporated. The SUV grew as she approached. Of all the questions swirling through her mind, the one that came pressing to the forefront -- the one that screamed in her head and echoed throughout her consciousness was... How can I put my life and my child’s life in the hands of this unknown person?

As if on cue, the darkness gave way and rays of sunshine infiltrated the windshield. Prisms of color and points of radiance flickered throughout the interior of the freezing cold BMW as beams hit the large diamond on Claire’s trembling left hand. She’d only recently agreed to wear the ring, and now she was leaving her fiancé. It was more than Claire could fathom.

If she turned around and talked to Tony, could she explain Catherine’s stories, and would Tony understand her fright? Could things be all right?

Berating her indecisiveness and battling a combination of sleepiness and fright, Claire felt as if wavering would prevail. It wasn’t until she slowed, passed the SUV, and saw the sole occupant of the gray utility vehicle that she was able to see freedom from the unknown terror and promised vendetta which threatened her and her child’s life. Claire recognized the white hair immediately. She swiftly pulled the BMW over to the shoulder of the highway, feeling the vibration of the uneven surface. Slowly, she backed along the gravel until the trunk of her sedan rested only a few feet from Phillip Roach’s bumper.

Catherine had connected her with the perfect person to help her escape. This realization reinforced Claire’s steely determination. Stiffening her spine, she placed the car in park, grabbed the folder of information, the disposable cellphone, turned off the BMW, laid the key on the driver’s seat, locked and shut the car’s door.

A line of semi-trucks passed, blowing Claire’s hair and exposing her determined expression. She made her way toward Phil’s SUV. Over the rush of traffic she heard the click of the unlocking doors. Claire opened the passenger door and climbed into the seat beside her old bodyguard.

She was the first to speak, “I thought you worked for Tony.”

“I did. How do you think Ms. London found my name?”

Claire raised her eyebrows.

“He hasn’t needed me since you moved to Iowa.”

“How do I know you won’t tell him where I am?”

“Because, I work for money. According to Ms. London, once I get you to Geneva, you will pay me more to keep quiet. Secrets are my specialty.”

“And you can do this?” Claire asked as she felt the SUV ease back onto I 80.

“Oh, Ms. Nichols, my talents were wasted as your babysitter. I’m very capable.”

Claire looked at the man to her left. “Don’t you think you should call me Claire?”

He smiled, “Actually, no. You have new documents. Claire Nichols is gone.”

He handed her a stack of passports. Each folder contained the international document and a corresponding state issued driver’s license, each from different states. The documents and licenses held digitally enhanced pictures. They were all her, but not; in some she was blonde, some red headed, and others her hair was darker than normal – almost black. Upon further scrutinization she read her eye color also varied. “I understand how my hair can change, but how can my eye’s change?”

Phil pointed to the back seat. Claire picked up a small cosmetic case. Inside were multiple pairs of colored contact lenses. He took the next exit and turned around, heading the SUV east toward the rising sun. Claire reached into her purse for her sunglasses.

“We’ll need to get rid of your purse and the clothes you’re wearing.” He noticed the large stone on her left hand. “And that -- isn’t that the same ring you sold?”

She fought the tears that suddenly filled her eyes and nodded.

“Can you do this?” Phil asked.

She swallowed. “I don’t have a choice. Where are we going? Are you taking me back to Iowa City?” There was a hint of optimism in her voice.

“Cincinnati. You’re flying from Cincinnati to Florence later this afternoon.” He turned toward her. And although her gaze was out the side window, Phil could see her trembling shoulders. “We have to stop on the way so you can change your clothes and your hair.” He waited until the silence grew uncomfortable, “Unless you want to go back to Iowa City?”