Freya's POV
Sometimes fate has a twisted sense of humor. After our flight landed in Mystique, the last person I expected to see was waiting right there in our hotel lobby.
Our team was wheeling our luggage through the entrance when I spotted Anya Porter laughing with a group of international clients near the exit. She looked perfectly put-together despite the long journey, chatting effortlessly in what sounded like flawless Italian.
My stomach dropped. We had just crossed paths at Ben Manor yesterday, and she was still on home soil then. How had she managed to beat us here?
There was an overnight flight to Mystique last night, so she must have taken that red-eye and already managed to recover from the jet lag. Impressive, really.
