Page 115 of In Doubt
“Sounds like a plan.”
The queue through security is a long line of people curling around staked out dividers. We can’t skip this line so we join the back, behind a couple with a screaming toddler. I catch the little boy’s eye and screw up my face, sticking out my tongue. He stares at me in shock, stopping mid scream and shoving his thumb in his mouth.
I wave at him and he waves back shyly.
The line moves slowly and Ric tugs out his phone to check his messages. Connie is nearing her due date and I know he’s anxious about the baby arriving early and missing the birth. It makes me feel even worse about dragging him out here.
We shuffle forward, and I finish the last of my water, checking for the third time that all my liquids are tucked safely inside the zip-up plastic bag.
The toddler’s eyes drift shut, and he falls asleep in his father’s arms, snoring softly.
Ric checks his watch, grumbling about how long the line is taking.
Finally we reach the front. The couple step forward, the woman helping to empty her partner’s pockets.
We wait for our turn.
A security guard issues us forward.
“Giorgie! Giorgie!”
I snap my head around. Did someone call my name?
I must be imagining it.
But it comes again. Louder this time.
“Giorgie! Wait! Don’t go!”
It can’t be! Can it? My heart leaps.
“What the hell,” Ric mutters beside me.
“Ma’am,” the security guard motions for us to walk through the scanner.
But I rise up on my tiptoes, craning my head over the sea of people, my heart hammering against my ribs. My breath catches in my throat.
Is it them?
I spot the pack immediately, towering over everyone else.
Jake, Levi, Dylan and Aiden.
They push their way through the line, people cursing as they do, one old lady swinging at Levi with her hand bag.
“Giorgie! Wait!” Levi calls, waving at me frantically.
“What do you want to do, Cucciola?” Ric asks softly beside me.
I peer past the security guard to the waiting lounge beyond. Then swing my gaze back to the pack.
“I want to wait. I want to hear what they have to say.”
My brother takes my elbow, and ignoring the guard’s cross words, he manoeuvres me to one side, just as the pack halts, gasping for air, in front of us.
“Giorgie,” Jake says, relief and excitement flooding his face. “I thought we were too late.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
