The most tempting escape route was the ferry.
I knew someone who, with a modest Cessna and for an equally modest sum, could have taken me out of Alaska in half the time and dropped me in Vancouver before nightfall. But I needed something simpler. I needed secrecy—leaving as little trace of our departure as possible and making sure no innocent person became involved. I would also need a bathroom in case Sasha needed care, and plenty of witnesses so that, if that wild animal was following me, it wouldn’t dare show itself in public.
Someone else in my position would have chosen the Cessna without hesitation. But that was exactly what anyone would choose.
The ferry would do.
In those chaotic moments, I didn’t think about my job, the people I knew, Anya’s acquaintances, or her own work. I d
