The typing stopped instantly.
Dylan didn't move for a long beat, his fingers frozen over the keyboard.
He slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyes searching her face with a mix of exhaustion and concern.
"LA?" he repeated, his voice low.
"Stasia, you know the answer to that. You can't even get past the front doors of an airport without a valid ID. Not to mention the facial recognition software they have at every terminal now."
"I know," she sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest.
"I just... Lori is there. She's doing that pop-up shop for her designs. I just thought, maybe there's a private way? A charter? Something that doesn't put my name on a manifest for him to find?"
Dylan closed his laptop halfway, the blue light fading from his face.
He shifted toward her, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, but his expression was firm.
