Hanna drew her bottom lip into her mouth. It seemed like every avenue they pursued led to a dead end. And were their witnesses really going to save the day?
She ran her hands down the length of her face, her heart thudding hard. It felt like she was trapped inside a dress that was ten sizes too small for her body. She couldn’t move her arms or her torso. She could barely breathe.
After that day’s proceedings, she somehow made her way into the hall, where she could collect her thoughts. She looked at her phone for the first time in hours. She had forty-two new messages, and they were all RSVPs to her wedding.
Her wedding. Well, at least that was something.
She scrolled through each yes, astonished that so many people wanted to come. Ramona had emailed her that the hip-hop/breakdancing group Hanna wanted to perform during cocktail hour at the reception had said yes. She also mentioned that because so many celebrities were attending—not only some of the cast of Burn It Down, but a few local newscasters and young socialites as well—she was thinking of having something of a red carpet before the reception. Us Weekly seems really into the idea.
Us Weekly? Despite the courtroom circus, Hanna felt a tiny, excited flutter. She knew this wedding was a big deal—everything surrounding their lives was these days. The trial was reported on obsessively on most of the news channels every night, there were constant updates about Aria’s whereabouts in Europe—the latest was that she was hiding somewhere in Sweden—and a few people had sent her Instagrams of mentions of her wedding in tabloids all over the globe. But Us was legit—and it didn’t sound like they were covering the wedding just to be snarky.
She dialed Ramona’s number and pressed her phone to her ear. “It’s Hanna. Red carpet’s a go. I think that sounds really fun.”
“Perfect,” Ramona squawked. “It’s all coming together, Hanna. I think it’s going to be fantastic.”
“Me, too,” Hanna said, her voice rising. “And you know what? Let’s have fireworks at the reception, too.”
“Fireworks?” Ramona paused to consider it. “I have some people I can call.”
Hanna hung up and slipped her phone back in her pocket, feeling good about her latest choice. Fireworks seemed totally appropriate for her wedding reception. Most likely, it would be her last moment of happiness—and she might as well go out with a bang.
17
INTERNATIONAL INTRIGUE
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a euro as currency,” Noel said on Thursday afternoon as he leafed through a stack of bills in the cheap hostel room he had rented. “I mean, look at this.” He held up a ten-euro note. “It looks like Monopoly money.”
Aria plucked it from his hand. “Be careful with that. Over here, Monopoly money is freedom.”
“I’m just glad we’re free together,” Noel said, pulling Aria onto the small, stiff-mattressed hostel bed.
Aria relished it for a moment, but then she pulled away. She still felt really, really nervous about Noel being here. Especially after some of the, er, mistakes she’d made.
When she’d turned around to face him yesterday, she thought she’d inhaled stray marijuana vapors from the nearby hash bar. “What are you doing here?” she’d asked frantically.
Noel had shrugged. “The way you said good-bye like that, and then when I got calls from your mom later that night wondering where you were, I started to put things together. I knew you’d left. And I knew I had to find you. You’d mentioned Amsterdam a few days ago—remember? And the Anne Frank house specifically. I just didn’t know I was going to find you so quickly.”
Aria had looked around him anxiously, still worried someone would spot her. “Noel, you have to go. You can’t be seen with me. And aren’t people looking for you?”
“My parents think I went to their place in Vail. I bought a plane ticket in my name for there, and I even checked into that flight but just didn’t board it. I snuck back down the Jetway, bolted for the international terminal, and got on an Amsterdam flight instead.”
Aria had started to feel sweaty. “Don’t you understand?” she’d whispered. “I’m an international criminal! You need to stay away from me! The cops are on my tail!” People were streaming past. It felt like everyone was staring at her, hearing every word.
Noel had just taken Aria’s arm and walked her down the canal. “You’ve only been here for one day. You haven’t done anything to attract attention, right? Used any credit cards, shown your ID?”
Aria’s bottom lip had trembled. She had done just those things. “Maybe,” she lied. “But there are alerts about me. Interpol is looking everywhere. Anywhere I go, someone is going to recognize me.” She shut her eyes. “Maybe I should just turn myself in.”