Chapter 22: Isabela Pérez
Atlanta’s Sunday traffic was surprisingly light, an unusual blessing for a city infamous for gridlocks, especially at this hour.
Ethan’s Audi sped smoothly across the open lanes, the buildings blurring past him as he drove.
He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the armrest. He enjoyed the low hum of his car’s engine and the occasional whooshing of passing signs.
He took a quick glance at the time, noting that it was still 8:43 AM, which meant he was still on schedule.
The airport was only fifteen minutes away, maybe ten at his current speed so Ethan wasn’t too bothered about being late.
The only thing bothering him right now was the fact that he wasn’t sure he clearly remembered what Isabela looked like but that was soon solved when his phone let out a ding.
He reached for his phone in the center console and glanced at the screen for just a second—long enough to read:
María: Here’s a picture Incase you forgot what she looks like.
Attached was a photo.
Ethan tapped it open with one thumb at a red light just before the final exit ramp.
Isabela Pérez stood in front of a stone fountain, suitcase beside her, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of her oversized black hoodie.