Free Before the fall: arrival (Embassy row # 0.5) by Ally Carter Page B

be? You travel with three,” the man says, dropping the red Adrian passport down beside my blue one from the United States. He hasn’t even looked at the black one yet.
    “It’s called dual citizenship. I’m sure you can look it up.”
    “Oh, we have looked up many things with regard to you, Miss Blakely.”
    “See? You do know my name. Good job,” I say even though I should know better. It’s just that I’m so hungry and my head hurts. I should have gotten in a taxi hours ago, and people are going to be waiting for me. Worried about me. But then it hits me: My mother is dead. My father and brother are far, far away.
    No one is going to worry about me ever again.
    “According to our records, you last entered Adria over three years ago. Is that correct?”
    Three years ago my mother was with me.
    “Miss Blakely?” the man says when I don’t answer. “According to our records—”
    “Yes. I was here then.”
    “So imagine our surprise, Grace Olivia Blakely, when you tried to reenter Adria today.”
    This, at last, gets my attention.
    “People enter Adria all the time,” I say. “What? Is there a lifetime limit? Did I use all mine up?”
    “No.” The man laughs, but it is a dry, humorless sound. “You may come and go as much as you please. We are merely surprised because, according to our records, you never left .”
    “What do you mean? I went home right after …” I trail off, remembering a cool breeze, a long fall, and pain. So much pain. Without even realizing it, I reach down and rub my leg.
    “Miss Blakely?” The man’s voice cuts through my mind.
    “I had an accident. The last time I was here. I had an accident, and then I went home.”
    The man laughs again. This time he does sound amused. “Oh, we know all about your ‘accident,’ Miss Blakely. Even in Adria we have Google. And when children fall off of national landmarks, it tends to make the papers.”
    “I was twelve.”
    “Yes?”
    “So I wasn’t a child.”
    He laughs yet again, a commentary on my age and how silly I must be. He thinks I’m hilarious in my attempts to be treated like a grown-up. He doesn’t know that I’ve already seen more, done more, survived more than most people will ever have to. This man can’t possibly realize that I haven’t been a child in years.
    “And I didn’t fall,” I say, leaning back in the hard chair. “I jumped.”
    The man eyes me again. “It’s a very high wall.”
    “It seems shorter on the way down.”
    The man leans back and eyes me. “Did you sprout wings and fly out of the country, then? Is that why we have no record that you ever left?”
    “No. I broke my leg in three places, so my grandfather thought I’d be more comfortable if I flew home on a private plane.”
    “Very fancy.”
    I shrug. People always think my grandfather’s world is so glamorous, and I guess in a way it is. He lives in a mansion. He’s personal friends with the US president and Adria’s king. But that doesn’t make me a princess. I’m just a girl who really wants to eat something and brush her teeth.
    “I left the country. Obviously,” I tell the man. “And now I’m back. And I’d really like to—”
    “How long will you be staying this time?” he asks. I shrug. “Is that supposed to mean that you do not know? Or that you do not wish to tell me?”
    “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m here until there’s peace in the Middle East or until I turn eighteen, I guess. Whichever comes first.”
    “You are very cocky for someone so far away from home.”
    “I’d like to call the US embassy.”
    “No.” The man snaps as if I’ve just asked to speak to the king. “What were you doing in a secure area of the airport?”
    “I got turned around. I’m sorry.”
    “The warning signs weren’t a … what is the word? Warning? ” he says with a smirk.
    “I’m tired,” I explain. “I never sleep on planes, and I …”
    I thought I heard my mother.
    I thought I saw her killer.
    I