And From the Other POV

Ah, the old bat was late. What to do?

What was the smart thing to do when one was handed a ticket to freedom?

Zoe looked over the bobbing sea of people one more time, looking for a blue paisley scarf on a 50-something woman who looked like she belonged to the name Astrid. No one fit the tell-tale sign nor the picture in her imagination. Zoe was looking across a sea of brown and black hats and an ocassional scarf of the wrong color. Surely Aunt Astrid would be right here close to the platform, ready and waiting like a spider in a web. Unless... unless...

God was answering her prayer! That could be the only answer. Zoe picked up her suitcase and moved as fast as her layered clothing would permit. She'd look like any other passenger trying to make a connection, instead of someone trying to escape.

The voice in the back of her head said she needed to slow down and think this through, but her fear and relief tangled in the nerves and muscles of her legs that were flying now over the old wooden floor that dipped and rose, like a gentle sea. It was carrying her out. Out and away to a new life without fear.