Pretending To Be In A Tight Spot, I Asked For One Safe Night Indoors. My Well-Off Kids Said It Wouldn’t Work. Only My Youngest Son, A Teacher, Took Me In, Ready To Sell His Wedding Ring To Cover Groceries. Next Morning, My Lawyer Arrived With A $100m Check, And Their Expressions Changed…

I’d listened to the voicemails during my layover in Boston. Her voice evolving from annoyed to worried to panicked. “Mom, where are you?

I went to the house and you weren’t there. Your car is gone. Please call me back.”

“Mom, this isn’t funny.

Donald and I are worried sick. If you’re trying to make a point about last night, you’ve made it. Please just call me.”

“Mom, I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you in the next hour.

This is insane. Where could you possibly have gone?”

The final message left just before boarding had been different. Sandra’s voice was cold, calculating.

“I know you’re playing games, Mom. Whatever you think you’re accomplishing, this won’t work. You can’t just disappear.

You have responsibilities, obligations, and frankly, making these kinds of irrational decisions just proves what Donald and I have been saying about your mental state.”

Mental state. There it was again. The weapon they’d used to justify everything that came next.

Poor Annie, not thinking clearly. Poor Annie needs protection from herself. I deleted the messages and powered off the phone permanently, dropping it into a trash bin at Logan Airport.

That device with its history of calls and texts and location data belonged to the woman I used to be. The plane touched down in Lisbon at 2:47 p.m. local time.

Portuguese customs was prefuncter, a polite stamp in my passport, a brief glance at my single suitcase. I was just another American tourist, unremarkable and forgettable. Perfect.

Miguel was waiting in the arrivals hall, and 30 years collapsed into nothing the moment I saw him. His hair was silver now, his face lined with age and experience, but his eyes were exactly as I remembered, warm, intelligent, and full of secrets. He wore a simple white shirt and dark pants, and somehow managed to look more elegant than Donald in his thousand suits.

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