Chapter 4

Heathrow Airport buzzed with a thousand conversations, none of which concerned me. I stood in the customs line, passport clutched in my hand, watching families reunite and businesspeople stride purposefully toward their next destination. Everyone seemed to know exactly where they belonged. Everyone except me.

The customs officer barely glanced at my face before stamping my passport. "Purpose of visit?"

"Education," I replied, the word tasting strange on my tongue. "I'm starting at Oxford."

He nodded, unimpressed by what felt monumental to me. "Welcome to England, Miss Parker."

Just like that, I was through—standing on foreign soil with nothing but…