I woke up after what felt like days, but I knew it had only been about an hour. My head snapped up the moment my eyes were open. I sat up, pulling my upper body off the lumpy bed as I surveyed my surroundings rapidly. My mind was filled with the vision of Smith splayed out against the steering wheel, his eyes open and locked on me. And the dark figure stalking towards me in the darkness.

But the man who had been the dark figure was now curled up awkwardly on the small armchair. It looked like he had been trying to fall asleep, but his eyes were set on me and I could tell his mind was working hard despite the dark circles around his eyes and the paleness of his skin. Though his body needed it badly, rest was not his priority at this point.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I demanded, pulling up the duvet to cover my body. Not that my body needed any more coverage. I was still wearing the clothes that Smith had originally found me in.

"You changed your hair." He replied simply, cocking his head to one side. A surprisingly boyish gesture for someone in the same line of work as Josh and Smith.

"I thought if I looked like an angry teen no one would recognize me." I admitted, blushing. I hadn't wanted to dye my hair originally, but now that I had I kind of enjoyed it. however, I knew a lot of people from my previous life would be less than delighted with my colour choice.

"You don't look like an angry teen." Alistair laughed. I couldn't tell if he was trying to make the conversation lighter or if he was completely exhausted.

"Did you sleep at all?" I asked carefully.

"No, but come on," He stood up suddenly, almost startling me; "we shouldn't stay in Holland just yet. It'll be the first place they look when they find his body and figure out his access card was stolen for the sole purpose of getting us on a plane. If you're feeling well enough I think it's time we go down and buy clothes and toiletries."

"We are in possibly one of the most fucked up situations ever and you're worried about having a change of clean clothes and mouthwash?" I sputtered out.

Alistair gave me a disapproving look but his eyes were too tired for the expression to be sharp. "My only concern is looking like a normal tourist because that is what we are going to be until we figure out an answer to this whole mess. Now, are you ready to go to the shopping center or do you want me to pick out your clothes?"

"I don't have any money." I denied. I also didn't have a driver's license or a passport any more.

"Neither do I, but Alistair O'Connor does." He responded with a devilish grin. In his hands were a brand new debit card and a sparkling credit card.

"Where did you get those?" I demanded.

"From your technologically inclined friend, of course. She is the master of her trade, you know. I've never seen anyone who could tangle such crazy webs with fraudulent info and I've been around all kinds of agents for years." Alistair stated, his eyes glimmering with appreciation. "Honestly, I'm just lucky that I convinced her to talk to me because I would've never been able to catch you otherwise. So, while we're out here keeping you out of harm's way and trying to figure out a way to get Josh taken care of Sophie will be making sure we have enough funds and that no one is able to trace our spending."

I knew that Sophie wouldn't have given me up easily. And I knew that when she had decided to tell Alistair the truth it had been because she trusted him to take care of me. But hearing that she had given me up again made me a little somber. Still, above anything, I was just thankful that she was okay.

"Come on, let's go get some fresh clothes." Alistair pressed, smiling at me softly.

Shopping had never been my favorite thing. I worked out regularly, but my stress levels and eating habits kept a little bit of extra fat stored in my body. In addition to this, I always tried to dress very professionally, no matter where I went. I was a business woman and I had to look like one no matter where I went. Well, I had been. Now I was trying to rid myself of that image. So not only was I picking out clothes I would never regularly touch I was also constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Agent Smith, back from the dead, or Josh. Frankly, I wasn't sure which one would be worse.

Thankfully, it was always just Alistair who was behind me. He would shoot me a lopsided smile every time we made eye contact. Even though I could see how exhausted he was I could also see the way his eyes roved the stores in a way that would've looked casual to anyone else, but I knew that his eyes were scanning for any dangers as he shopped for his own belongings.

By the end of it I was actually thankful for his idea. I was still the same clothes that I had worn to work- which were now the clothes I had been wearing when I watched someone get murdered. When we returned to our hotel I had been more than delighted to rip them off my body. Having my own shampoo, one that smelt like cinnamon, was lovely too. After a quick shower and changing my clothes I wasn't exactly settled, but I felt like my skin was crawling less. I had an assortment of stuff, from runners and sneakers to hoodies and work out clothing, plus a new hair brush, tooth brush, and a tube of cheap mascara.

"Feel better?" Alistair asked when I towel dried my hair. The dye in my hair left purple streaks on the white towel which made him smile.

"A little. How are you so calm about all of this?" I demanded.

Alistair just pointed to himself and said, "Agent. My job now is to keep you as safe as possible, regardless of what has already happened. Now, have you ever been to Paris?"

"No."

"Perfect, you'll fit right in with the tourist groups."

And just like that we were moving on once again.

A lengthy train ride was filled with body aches and nibbles of chocolate, though I still didn't know what was in it. I slept most of the way. It was better that way. Every time the train stopped my head would lurch and I would wildly look around, dazed, confused and terrified that I would have to see a dead man again. At least the chocolate calmed down my ugly thoughts, allowing me to sleep in our private train booth. Alistair always kept a watchful eye out, pretending to read but assessing every human being that passed and offering me a calm look when I became too frantic for my own good.

Finally, after five hours, we reached Paris.

I had dreamed of going to Paris when I was younger. My parents certainly had the money to send me, but they hadn't liked it one their honeymoon and refused to pay for me to go and I certainly wasn't going to get a job to pay for my own way. And Josh had always entertained the idea of going, but it had been to please me at the beginning of our relationship. Once I was locked into my engagement he made it infinitely clear that he only cared about going to the same glamorous resort in Mexico to drink excessively and to snort white powder.

Sadly, now that I was in Paris I wasn't here to be swept away by the romance.

I just clung to my duffle bag tightly and allowed Alistair to place his hand against the small of my back to guide me through the crowded station. We managed to slither out of the crowds and slip into the silence of a taxi where Alistair spoke perfect French to the driver. Well, it sounded perfect to me, but I had zero perception of how well he had actually done. I just hoped it was good enough to keep us under the radar.

I tried to allow myself to be entranced by the beauty of the architecture when the cab started driving. I tried to look at all the stunning historic churches and watch the glorious fountains slip by as we drove. I wanted to assess the way people dressed and how they spoke and what they ate, even if it was just from a taxi, but I couldn't. I attempted to look out the window but I simply ended up staring at my own reflection, wondering how things could've gotten so much better than so terrible so fast.

I had started living again. I had stopped looking over my shoulder every second and I knew that Sophie was safe enough and happy enough. No, it wasn't a beautiful fairytale and no, I didn't have the stunning life I had in Canada but it was a start. A wonderful foundation I had been able to build on if given the chance.

But now a man had been murdered. A man that worked for Josh. And I was on the run again.

"We're here." Alistair said softly, handing the driver some Euros.

I think any other day I would've been amazed to see where he had taken me. My jaw would've dropped at the stunning building before me. I had never seen anything so grand or with so much character in America or Canada. The structure in front of me was straight out of a story book.

But Alistair gently pushed me towards the front door and I complied willingly, my mind filled with terrible scenes instead of romantic ideas. We stepped up to the front door and Alistair knocked firmly. I wondered what on Earth led me to trust this man so much as we were in a new country and I was following his orders blindly. Alistair seemed to sense my uneasy and was about to say something but, the door was yanked open, revealing a short woman with rosy cheeks, kind brown eyes, and an apron tied around her waist.

"Alistair." She said, her mouth turning up into a bright smile. Her short arms were flung around the agent's waist and she held onto him tightly, asking a hundred questions that were muffled by Alistair's brand new sweatshirt. He didn't reply to any of them, just smiled and held her back.

I was beyond startled when she pulled away and beamed at me before saying, "This must be your girlfriend. I knew that when you stopped talking to us for a couple of months it was because you had fallen in love. And now she's finally here. My goodness, took you long enough to decide to bring her home, Alistair." She scolded, but her grin never left.

Unfortunately, I didn't share her enthusiasm about meeting her. And Alistair didn't bother to force a smile in return this time. He just eased me through the intricate double doors and into the foyer.

"Get Dad." Alistair stated.

"Why do I feel like this isn't going to be a conversation about a happy couple?" his mom asked softly. Oddly enough when her smile died she didn't look like a kind homemaker. I watched her shoulders move back, her spine straighten, her mouth tighten and her eyes narrow. She was most definitely an agent as well. Or at the very least, one of the most intimidating women I had ever met.

Alistair turned away from me, facing his mother once more.

"I killed a man."