A soothing melody floated through her earbuds as Meg stretched out on the chaise and closed her eyes, her skin soaking up the sun's rays. Summer had finally arrived, and the girl was no longer a measly middle schooler. In a few short months, Meg would officially start high school. While she would remain at the same elite private school shed attended since sixth grade, moving to the "upper" school was a big deal.
This summer was going to be the best yet; Meg was sure of it! She already had plans for the upcoming weekend with her best friends from school, and she and her mom would be flying to Europe in less than two weeks. Meg hadn't been out of the country since she was eight, and she looked forward to being able to appreciate the other cultures and countries more now that she was older.
For as long as Meg could remember, it had just been her and her mom. She supposed she had a father, but she'd never met him and didn't even know his full name. She'd tried to press her mom for information the last year or two, but it was always the same story: They had shared one passionate night together and then parted their separate ways. A one-night stand. If Meg's mother knew the man's first name, she hadn't told Meg, and it wasn't listed on the birth certificate. Only a last name was given, but unfortunately it was common enough that Meg wouldn't begin to know how to track the man down.
Growing up with just one parent hadn't been horrible, though. Meg adored her mom, and she knew her mother loved her more than anything. Meg's mom was always there, regardless of business and work commitments. Cynthia Starling was an heiress in her own right, the only grandchild of a fuel tycoon, but Meg knew that wasn't her mother's only source of income. Other business dealings were less… savory… but Meg didn't have much in the way of details. Her mother had wanted to keep her out of that world.
A quick 'ding' of a cell phone broke Meg out of her musings. She reached for her phone, the latest iPhone model, and stared at the screen. Time stopped. The message was one word, sent from her mother.
Titanic
Meg's chest tightened. Something was horribly wrong, because that single word was their code word. Meg knew that if her mother ever gave her that word, she was to go into hiding immediately. The teen wondered what had happened, but she didn't have time to dwell on it.
Within seconds, Meg was inside the house, darting up to her bedroom. Pausing just enough to lock her bedroom door behind her, Meg made a beeline for her closet. It was the size of a typical American teenager's bedroom, but that wasn't the only difference. Along one wall, hidden behind a rack of shirts, was a wall safe. Entering the 10-digit code, Meg opened the safe and pulled a backpack, a purse, and a large duffel bag from the large compartment. She'd grabbed her regular purse on the way to her room, and Meg made quick work of transferring the important contents from her regular purse into a hidden compartment in her backpack. They wouldn't cause a second glance in any x-ray or scan machine. Letting her regular purse fall to the carpeted floor, Meg put on her backpack and slung her new purse and duffel bag over her shoulder.
On the opposite wall from the safe, a small button was hidden behind a wire shelf, so much so that someone would have to know exactly what they were looking for to find it. Meg pressed the button, watching the wall slowly swing open to reveal a hidden passageway. It was dimly lit, but Meg knew her way. Once inside the passageway, another button allowed Meg to close the wall behind her.
Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she speed-walked along the seemingly endless passageway. She couldn't have possibly been followed, not so soon and not with the barriers she'd already passed, but the unknown was frightening, and Meg allowed herself the chance to react a bit before she had to completely pull herself together.
Eventually, the teen reached a second door, this one with its own keypad. Another 10-digit code, and Meg stepped into a room smaller than her closet but large enough that she could stretch her arms out at her sides and not touch any walls. Gently setting her belongings on the floor, Meg unzipped the duffel bag and got to work.
The bikini top and shorts she'd been wearing were deposited in a pile on the floor, and a new pair of jeans and a t-shirt were pulled from the duffel, along with a well-padded bra. The outer clothes weren't particularly fancy, but that was the point. Socks and clean, but gently used, sneakers followed. Sufficiently dressed for the moment, Meg lowered her body to the floor and sat cross-legged, pulling two bags from the duffel – a smaller one with makeup and a larger one with assorted items. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and slipped a flesh-colored cap over her head, making sure every strand of her rich chocolate hair was hidden. Colored nonprescription contacts went in her eyes, turning her normal chocolate orbs to miniature oceans of blue.
Meg took at least a quarter of her hour perfecting her makeup – adding slight contours to help make her face appear a little more mature. For everything to work, she needed to look at least sixteen, and on a regular day, Meg looked every bit the fourteen-year-old she was. Even so, she didn't go crazy with the makeup – it needed to look as natural as possible.
Satisfied with her makeup, Meg fitted a wig on her head, wavy blonde locks suddenly brushing her shoulders. A delicate pair of glasses was perched on her nose, and Meg at last pulled a mirror from the duffel, studying her handiwork. Someone would have to study her closely to recognize her.
Letting out a small sigh, Meg retrieved an untraceable, prepaid smartphone from the duffel and turned it on. She needed to get as far away from New York as she could, and the quickest way to accomplish that was through air travel. Her fingers moved like lightning to secure two economy tickets – one to get her across the country and the other to ensure it was virtually impossible for anyone to trace her movements. As an added layer of security, Meg booked the tickets under two different names and two different accounts. First class would have been preferable, and money wasn't an issue, but flying first class would only serve to make Meg stand out when she desperately needed to blend in.
Her first flight was scheduled to depart in just over three hours. Knowing she had little time to waste, Meg pushed herself to her feet and once more situated the backpack and purse over her shoulder. Leaving the duffel on the floor, Meg strode to a new door and typed in a third passcode before entering another passageway. This one was shorter, and before long Meg was climbing steps to a final door. Keying in one more code, Meg stepped through the doorway and breathed a small sigh of relief as she was met with sunlight. Now off of her mother's property, Meg headed for where she knew she'd find the nearest bus stop. She had a flight to catch.