*Bianca*
The scent of jet fuel lingered in the air, so pungent like acid that I swear I could taste it on my tongue with every breath I took. I wrinkled my nose in distaste but held Amara’s hand tightly as I walked her up to the private jet sitting motionlessly on the airfield.
Only a few workers moved back and forth, dressed in neat white uniforms without any logos. I still couldn’t believe that Leo owned his own private jet. It seemed a little extravagant for just a real estate owner but considering all my suspicions that were just piling up, I was starting to think he was more than that.
“I got to admit, America is much better than I thought it would be,” Amara rambled happily, dragging along her wheeled luggage behind us as she held my hand in the other. “I thought for sure the food would be terrible like everyone says but to my surprise - it was delicious!”
