Twenty Seven Days
It was the kiss of two survivors who had finally crossed the border into the safe zone, who had left the weapons behind in the mud and were ready to face the legal rubble together.
When they stepped back out into the grand foyer ten minutes later, the silver drive was gone from the mahogany table, tucked securely into Miller’s briefcase. The front doors stood wide open, the bright, cold morning sun finally burning through the last tatters of the Hamptons fog, illuminating the gravel driveway where an unmarked, black Chevrolet Suburban was waiting with its rear doors open.
Scarlett took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her own small bag. She looked at Xavier, then at
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