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The St. Regis
A clock ticked noisily. The warm, summer wind collided with the glass window
causing a woman to jump. Her manicured fingernails drummed the bench,
anxiously. Again, she checked her watch. Only a minute had passed. Locked up in
this room, with a security guard outdoors, she let herself slip, momentarily into
relaxation. She looked at her new identification. Laura Adams was no more. Erin
Tolstoy had taken her place. To ensure her survival, she had to leave her life
behind, and here, in the St. Regis, Witness Protection transformed her into
someone else.
‘One!’
Cameras flashed and news anchors reported as a President stepped up to the
podium. The grand staircase had carried many ascents but none quite like this.
If walls could talk, they would have some sordid stories to tell.
‘
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