“Sweetheart, your taxi is here!”

Jenna felt her heart leap up into her throat.

“I'll be right there!”

This is it, she thought. Now or never.

She made eye contact with herself in the mirror. Hazel eyes stared back, bloodshot. She hadn't slept well the night before, excitement and anxiety preventing her from getting the rest she needed. She’d spent less time than usual on her usual morning routine, but hey, she was going to be on a plane all day; who would care what she looked like?

Her cheeks were flushed—the foundation hadn't done its job like she’d hoped. Because she was anxious, perhaps? Or maybe because it was below freezing that morning?

Jenna didn't have time to think about it. She slung her bag over her shoulder and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping on one of her mother’s cats on the way down.

Her parents were at the bottom of the stairs, in the foyer. Her father's hands were resting on the handle of her hard-shell suitcase. It was blue, of course—her favorite color—like the water in the Gulf of Mexico. Both her mother, Lori, and father, Brent, had dark hair, though Brent’s was thinning on top of his head. He smiled at her tenderly, his dark eyes full of sadness at her leaving. Her mother's hair, always flawless, brushed across her shoulders as she shook her head. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears.

“Oh, do be careful, my dear,” Lori blubbered, pulling Jenna into a tight hug.

As Jenna smelled her mother's perfume—vanilla and lilac—she felt her heart constrict again. The pain of her guilt was almost overwhelming.

When her mother released her, Jenna looked down at her feet. She knew that if she looked her mom in the eye, she would see the lie as plain as day on her face.

“Now, you'll make sure to email us as soon as you touch down in Paris, right?” Brent asked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Another twinge of guilt. “Of course,” she replied, smiling wide.

She had to get out of the house before they found her out.

“And Alanna will be meeting you there?” her mother added.

She almost laughed. Her best friend Alanna was going away, all right, but she was going to Germany for three weeks with her boyfriend, and would be road tripping to her friend's wedding in Arizona when they got back. She was the perfect person to use for Jenna’s cover-up, and she had totally agreed to back her up if it came down to it.

Jenna had never worked this hard to lie to anyone. Ever.

She accidentally allowed some of the anxiety to show, but quickly covered it up with a shrug.

“Mom, it's no big deal. We’re traveling halfway around the world. There are bound to be some delays somewhere.”

Jenna saw her mother's eyes widen with fear at her comment, and tried to quickly calm her down.

“Seriously, don't worry about it. I’ll let you know if anything major changes, okay?”

Lori nodded glumly, and Brent put his hand on her shoulder.

“All right.” He paused and glanced at the door. They could hear the thrumming of the taxi's engine on the street. “We shouldn’t keep you any longer. You have a plane to catch.”

“Send us pictures!” Lori exclaimed as Jenna took her suitcase from her father and stepped toward the door.

“I’ll make sure to show you all of my pictures when I get back, okay?” Jenna said over her shoulder. “I don't know how good the internet will be over there. It might be hard to send anything more than an email.”

Lori frowned. “Well, then make sure to tell me every detail when you write!”

How was she going to show pictures of a place, and of people, who she would never see on this trip? She supposed that her parents would eventually find out that she was not going where she said she was, but hey, once it was over and done with, there wouldn't be much they could do, right?

I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

“Three months…” her mother murmured, and Jenna saw the pain on her face.

Maybe that was a long time to be gone, but this was the only chance that she would have before she started her master's degree in the spring. Taking this autumn off was all she felt she could afford.

“All right, then. Bye, Mom and Dad,” Jenna said, kissing them both on the cheek. She felt her eyes sting with tears that she did not want to come, and she offered them the biggest smile she could manage.

“We love you,” Brent said. Lori gave her a weak thumbs-up, her tears falling freely.

Jenna felt her lip tremble. “I love you too,” she replied. Then, she walked determinedly out of the door.

She stepped out into the cold Maine morning to snow falling gently down from the sky. The frigid air washed some of her sadness away and cleared her mind. She set her shoulders and walked toward the car.

“Jenna Jackson?” the taxi driver asked over his shoulder as she hopped into the backseat, sliding her rucksack in ahead of her. Jenna made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. He had gentle gray eyes, and she found herself more at ease than she had been all morning.

“That's me,” she said, and leaned back against the seat. She closed the door, and the driver pulled away from the curb.

Jenna gazed out of the window at her parents’ townhouse, slowly disappearing behind her. The snow was falling harder, and soon obscured the house from her sight. She wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for what she was doing.

“Airport, right?” the man asked, his voice gruff, but kind.

“That’s right,” she replied absently, pulling out her passport and boarding pass from her carry-on. She had checked and double checked everything that morning to ensure that she had everything she needed, but it couldn’t hurt to check once more.

They drove in silence for a while, and Jenna allowed herself some time to wallow. It was bothering her that she had lied to her parents about something so huge. She wasn’t looking forward to the truth inevitably coming out when she got home, but there was just no way they would have allowed her to take a trip like this.

And especially not alone.

“So, where you flying to?” he asked as they stopped at stop light.

Jenna pulled her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. She wasn’t upset to be leaving this cold weather, she realized.

“Al Mezinda. Do you know it?”

“Ah, the Middle East?”

“That’s right,” she affirmed, both surprised and on edge. She prepared to defend herself from the onslaught of questions that were sure to come, just as they always did.

Yes, she was aware of the dangers of traveling alone. Yes, she knew that, as a woman, she was more likely to be in danger. But for as long as she could remember, the Middle East—Al Mezinda in particular—had fascinated her. She’d ended up making Middle Eastern history her major at college, and now, having graduated, she wanted nothing more than to experience the place for herself.

She knew she would be safe—she had organized a place to stay, booked a few tours, and made connections with some English-speaking locals preemptively via email. Not that her parents would have trusted her planning or believed she would be okay. Not in the least.

The small nation of Al Mezinda was vibrant, alive, and so incredibly different from everything she knew. Her home in Maine and the city she was traveling to were like night and day.

She was ready to be challenged.

“That's where the Djourani family rules, right?” the driver asked.

Jenna blinked in surprise.

“It is! How come you know so much?”

The man smiled at her in the rearview mirror.

“My son served in the military; did a few tours in the Middle East. He told me Al Mezinda is one of the safest places for travelers these days. For the most part, at least.”

Jenna leaned forward excitedly. Finally, someone who understood!

“That’s one of the reasons I decided to start my trip there!” she said. “I'm not looking for trouble, by any means, but I want to be able experience a new culture and way of life. It’s ridiculous, really; I’ve been studying Middle Eastern history for the last three years, but I’ve never even been!” She sat back against the seat and glanced out of the window. “It can't all be bad,” she said, more quietly.

“My son told me some stories,” the driver said quietly. He glanced at her again, his gray eyes serious. “You take care of yourself. Al Mezinda may be safe for travelers, but it’s always wise to exercise caution.”

Jenna swallowed hard, and wondered for a brief second if she should ask him to turn around and take her home.

But she gained control of herself, and simply nodded.

“I will.”

Jenna gave the driver a hearty tip when she arrived at the airport, thanking him for being so understanding. She waved at him as he drove off, and then turned to face the airport.

Here we go, she told herself. There's no turning back now.

* * *

Aside from her internal flight arriving a half hour late to JFK, Jenna ran into no issues in the first leg of her journey. She was so excited when she landed in New York that she purchased a huge lunch, more snacks than she could ever eat for the flight to Beirut, and even a T-shirt to commemorate the beginning of her travels. She took pictures of everything, uploading nearly all of them to her social media account.

There, that’ll make Mom relax a little, she thought. She’s definitely already snooping, looking for evidence of me still being alive.

Thinking of her parents, Jenna tapped out a quick email to let them know she had landed in New York. It felt good to be entirely honest, knowing that all of the messages to come after it were going to be half-truths at best. She hit send with a heavy heart.

But the anxiety was soon gone as she boarded the plane, her imagination already running wild with what she was about to see and experience.

The twelve-hour flight was rather uneventful. Jenna watched a few B-rated movies before falling asleep somewhere over the Atlantic. When she woke again, they were somewhere over France. She pulled out a bar of candy and started to munch on it, wondering when she might have American food again, and already wishing she’d had one last cheeseburger before leaving the States.