The seminar ended at six in the evening. Amelia Clarke couldn't wait to rush back to the hotel, quickly packed her things, handed over the remaining tasks to the staff of the organizer, and, along with her female colleagues from PEAR, boarded the flight back home before eight o'clock.
Before switching off her phone, she made a call to Owen Moreland. She didn't tell him she was already on the flight home, merely said she was going to sleep. After hanging up, she turned to look at the pitch-black view outside. As far as her eyes could see, only the distant terminal building was faintly illuminated.
The airplane slowly ascended into the sky.
Amelia felt her chest swell with every beat—it was as if she longed to be home with every fiber of her being.
On the 29th, at one in the afternoon, a flight from Paris landed on the runway of the international airport in the Capital City.
