foolish mistakes. First in publishing her translation too soon, never knowing the deadly impact it would have on a race of people living today. And secondly, and even less excusable, leaving that ebook on her phone within Utanapishtim’s reach. She couldn’t undo those mistakes. But maybe she could keep things from getting any worse.
From the woodlot beyond the backyard, she watched the house for several long minutes. She moved along the edge of the woods so she could look past her house and see the road out front. There was, as she had feared, a dark sedan parked directly across the street.
Well, it was still her home. And she needed it desperately right then. So she moved back through the woods until the house itself blocked her from the street and dashed right up the middle of the tiny backyard, ducking low until she reached the back door.
Her key was already in her hand. She inserted it in the lock, opened the door and slipped silently into her house, feeling as nervous as a cat burglar. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it and sighed. The relief of home washed over her. God, if only she could curl up into a ball and stay right there.
But she couldn’t.
She kept very low as she moved through the house, never turning on a single light nor moving in any way that could be seen from outside. As much as she wanted to bask in her haven, she just didn’t have time. She had to be fast, and she had to be efficient. She crept up the stairs to her bedroom to get clean clothes and packed everything essential into a backpack she found in her closet. A couple of changes of clothes, all her important papers from their fireproof lockbox under the bed, including her birth certificate, social security card, passport, diplomas and degrees. She added a hairbrush, extra socks and running shoes.
Then she took that bag with her and headed into her bathroom for a quick shower, keeping the water cool enough so it wouldn’t steam up any windows and give her presence away.
She slicked her wet hair back and fastened it behind her head with a black band, then stuffed a few more essentials into her backpack. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant. Just the basics. She quickly changed into cargo pants and a black tank top, with thick cushy socks and tall black lace-up hiking boots. She added a khaki Binghamton Mets baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses.
As an afterthought, she stuffed an empty duffel into her backpack, in case she needed to take some things from her office. Finally, stopping in the kitchen, she shoved a box of granola bars and several bottles of green tea into the bulging bag, snagged a jacket from the hook near the back door and crept outside again.
“Goodbye, house,” she whispered. “You’ve been good to me.” But there was something inside telling her that she had outgrown this little nest of hers. This hiding place—which was what it had been. A cocoon where she had secreted herself away from life. From living.
The woman who emerged from that back door, she felt, was not the same one who’d left this house by the front door so short a time ago. Not even close.
She knew things, had seen things, she had never known or seen before. She’d come to understand things she had never even considered. And she’d shifted her vision about what was right and what was wrong in the world, seeing things now as varying shades of gray, not pure black and white like before.
Sometimes the ends really did justify the means. James had shown her that. And shown her, too, that there were still real heroes in this world. He was one of them, she had no doubt of that, no matter how badly his efforts had turned out. He’d failed. And he believed that proved that her doubts about him had been right all along.
But she believed she’d been wrong. James was more heroic than any man she had ever known. She hoped she would get a chance to tell him that one day. She wished she had done so before leaving him this last time. But the pain of walking away had left her too raw to say anything at all.
She was in love with him. She knew that now.
For whatever that was worth.
Her bicycle was leaning against the side of the house, and she wanted it