Mexico

I woke early the next morning with a heavy heart and a swirl of worry in my head. 

Marion and I had barely slept after leaving Sweden. 

I could still feel the weight of those threatening words, even as the plane lifted us high above the Earth and maybe far away from those threats. 

The long flight to Mexico was quiet. 

I sat by the window, watching the clouds drift slowly, wondering if our escape had been too sudden. 

I held Marion's hand tightly, hoping his steady grip would calm my trembling thoughts.

Once we landed, the warm Mexican air felt like a small, kind welcome. 

We drove in silence along dusty roads that led us to a secluded Airbnb far from the busy towns. 

I knew that Marion had pulled every string to make sure that this worked under twenty-four hours and for that, I was grateful.

When we arrived at the small, vine-covered house, I felt a slight relief mixed with the lingering fear of what lay ahead.