How can a city of this magnitude be so suffocating?

The blackness of the subway tunnels did nothing to calm her racing heart. She willed herself to stare straight ahead as if the slightest movement would attract attention. She hoped her dark sunglasses and headscarf would protect her from potential scrutiny, but she had low hopes.

She was Gabriella Medina, after all. Her face would be recognized from Maine to Alaska and everywhere in between. There was not a place on earth where her smoldering eyes would not spark a second glance. For the first time in her twenty-four years of life, she rued her sensational good looks. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide.

How could I have let this happen? I don’t know what to do, she told herself mournfully. How did this get so far?

It was a question she had asked herself many times over the past weeks, but the answer did not manifest itself easily. She had no part in what had happened, not really. She wished she had been more outspoken, though, louder in her protest. It was too late now; it had escalated beyond control, and all Gabby could think to do was run.

This will blow over eventually, she reasoned, but the words were little comfort to a girl who wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. There must be somewhere I can go in the meantime.

Slowly, she lowered her too-large glasses and peered about the cesspool that was the A train heading into Manhattan. Her wide, chocolate eyes scanned the torn advertisements above the doors, hoping for inspiration.

Eyeglass store, therapist hotline, Mr. Chang’s Chinese and Wings… Oh!

Forgetting her need for anonymity, Gabriella fully pulled the glasses from her face and scooted toward the rear of the car, where an ad had caught her attention.

She stood before a drunk homeless man and a tightly wound businessman, staring in awe at the glorious colors of the picture before her: an endless blue contrast against a grassy sea of emerald green while horses roamed about with mountains framing the shot.

“How can you have any worries in big sky country?” the caption read. A slow smiled formed on Gabriella’s generous mouth and she nodded agreeably.

Perfect, she thought, exhaling slowly.

“Hey! Aren’t you Gabriella Medina?” the homeless man demanded, jarring her from her reverie.

Gabriella eyed him suspiciously. He was the last person she would have expected to recognize her, but within a second, she knew why he had. A newspaper lay open on the seat beside him, her picture in black and white accompanied by a full-length article.

She shook her head quickly, covering her face again and backing away from the man, turning her head so her silken chestnut strands covered her partially.

“No,” she muttered. “You’re confusing me with someone else.”

The homeless man pointed, his voice raising an octave as he waved his finger in excitement.

“Yeah! Yeah, you are! You’re the chick who’s having an affair with the mayor!”

Color draining from her face, Gabriella watched as the entire car turned to stare at her, their mouths agape. The train began to slow at Cathedral Parkway, and a din erupted as people reached for their cell phones and iPads to document their encounter with the fallen woman in their midst. Without hesitation, Gabriella bolted onto the crowded platform as soon as the doors slid open.

I have to get out of New York, she thought, hyperventilating as she rushed toward the surface of the city. She shoved the glasses back onto her face, willing herself not to cry.

It was the same thought that had crossed her mind dozens of times since the scandal had emerged, but this time was different. This time she had a plan; she was going to the Treasure State.

I will lay low and stay out of trouble, wait for everything to settle for a while. Then I will return to civilization. My only problem will be not dying of boredom in the middle of nowhere. After all, what the hell can happen in Montana?