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slept. Compared to her prison cell, the room was palatial, containing all the natural furnishings of a bedroom. The queen sized bed had a beautiful headboard covered in ivory fabric. Matching material graced taught boxed valances covering the top of each window. Long vertical wooden blinds kept the room dark, while sleek, modern bedside stands, dressers, and a desk lined the walls. The light golden hue of the blinds contrasted beautifully with the darker wood slats covering the floor. Strategically placed beige shag rugs added warmth and undoubtedly muffling sound.
    Turning to the tile covered bathroom Claire smiled at the sink. It looked like a green glass bowl sitting upon a stand. Above the sink was a large framed mirror flanked on each side by lighted sconces. Claire paused, staring at her reflection. It looked different. Her eyes glistened with the realization -- it was the smile! It had been so long since she truly felt like smiling.
    Claire assessed herself, she didn’t look as old as she felt. Although, the past three years had psychologically aged her beyond the chronological timetable, the more recent lack of sunshine undoubtedly benefited her skin. She remembered a time when she radiated with a bronze sun-kissed glow. She also remembered her hair lighter, both from the sun and highlights. Today her pale china complexion was surrounded by chestnut waves as her hair hung upon her back. It hadn’t been trimmed or cut in over a year.
    Tip-toeing in stocking feet, Claire silently made her way into the hall. Near the entrance to her room were doors to other rooms. Last night she learned one was Amber’s office containing a desk, computers, and everything she needed to stay connected to her responsibilities at SiJo. Additional doors led to a den and an extra bedroom. Amber’s bedroom was on the other end of the condo.
    Claire continued down the hall, into the living room, and through the archway to the cool kitchen. Everything looked perfect. Although she could, Amber didn’t employ a full time household staff. She reasoned, she enjoyed cooking, and often ate out. A cook would be underutilized. There was a woman who came twice a week to clean and do laundry.
    Though early, Claire longed for real, non-prison coffee. She eyed the coffee maker upon the granite countertop. It was different than any she’d seen before, some kind of individual cup thing. Had making coffee changed that much in fourteen months? She tried desperately to decipher its operation. The metal stand by its side held multiple types of coffee and flavors in small sealed cups. After further investigation and exploration she surrendered and sat at the kitchen table. The quietness of the apartment combined with the freedom to move about as she wished allowed Claire’s mind to replay the past twenty-four hours. Staring through the windows into the dark predawn sky she remembered....
     
    *****
     
    When Claire regained consciousness at Des Moines International Airport, the security officer tried frantically to calm her nerves. Once in his office he handed Claire the telephone. On the other end Amber McCoy responded to Claire’s obvious distress, explaining, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just after Liz, my assistant, told me she booked you a flight, I started thinking. Maybe I didn’t need to take this precaution, but after all you’ve told me, well, I just thought it would be better if there weren’t any record of your travel.”
    Listening to Amber’s steady tone helped Claire regain her composure. “Oh, I think that makes sense. It was just when the security officer said private plane , I immediately thought someone else sent it.”
    “ No wonder you freaked. I’m glad I was able to reach you. A SiJo Gaming jet will be there soon. Why don’t you stay with security until it arrives? In no time, you’ll be out here.”
    When Claire handed the telephone back to airport security, the nice man offered to get her something