❝you're in danger here, spencer.❞
❝we'll worry about that later. right now all that matters is you and me.❞
hazel finley is afraid. afraid of being alone. afraid of losing the people she loves. afraid of making mistakes. afraid of falling back into...
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❝Hell is the absence of the people you long for.❞
EMILY ST. JOHN MANDEL
✩
0.1 : come home
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT ONCE SAID, "YOU HAVE TO ACCEPT WHATEVER COMES, AND THE ONLY IMPORTANT THING IS THAT YOU MEET IT WITH THE BEST YOU HAVE TO GIVE." Hazel Finley read these words eight months ago, and now she repeats them to herself over and over whenever her mind drifts to the life she left.
Today is a Sunday, and that means that it's her day to buy groceries for the week. So Fin walks the four blocks from her tiny apartment to the tiny supermarket down the road, waves hello to the Sunday evening cashier, and walks up and down the aisles, choosing only the essentials: eggs, milk, bread, some fruits and vegetables, and a pint of strawberry ice cream. It's been a rough week.
She makes small talk in Greek to the cashier, Andreas, who's barely twenty and has a major crush on her, pays for her groceries, and then heads out into the beautiful Athenian sunset. She checks her texts while waiting to cross the road; nothing from Ethan, her Interpol contact, and just as much nothing from Blair, her friend at the CIA. Esther's been dormant for the past two months, which is a good thing, but Fin hates this waiting thing. She half-wishes Esther would show up at her door so this whole thing could be over.
Because Hazel Finley has no friends in Athens. Sure, there's her landlord, who's an alcoholic and a collector of bird paintings; Andreas the cashier; the couple who live below her, Nikos and Ella, who like to walk together at five a.m.; and of course Ethan and Blair. But no one truly knows who she is.
And this shouldn't be an issue, not when she's used to this, when her whole life has been spent alone–but it hasn't.
Because two and a half years ago she found a family.
Thirty months.
And then eight months ago her mother threatened everything she loved.
So Fin left.
And no one in this damn country knows anything real about her.
Not even her name.
The name on her lease says Evi Jones. Her credit card says Evi Jones. Her drivers' license says Evi Jones. Thanks to CIA Witness Protection, no one calls her Fin here.
Hazel Finley doesn't exist in Greece.
Her phone rings just as she reaches the stairs that lead up to her apartment. The name on the screen says Blair Tran, so Fin sighs and picks up reluctantly. "Hey."
"Hey. Everything okay?" Blair sounds unnaturally cheery, but then again she's always happier than Fin is.
