They burn, but I’m relieved to find they aren’t wet. Crying won’t accomplish anything while I’m stuck on a quasi-public plane.

To distract myself and avoid thinking, I make a point of stretching on the way back to the room I left Fiona in. Right about now I’d welcome sleep as an escape from my humiliation.

It would be bad enough if I merely had a crush on Matthews and had been kissing Johnny. But to top things off, I’m supposed to be a trained field agen...