Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 223

Sebastian’s partner, Serena, felt a little embarrassed about asking Emma for help, but Sebastian just grinned. “Emma used to look after everyone in the dance troupe back in school—she’s always been like that. Don’t worry about it, just let her help. Now go on, hurry up, or we’ll end up blocking the exit.”

Sebastian shot Serena a look. She didn’t quite get the message, but she decided to drop it and fell silent.

On the way to pick up their luggage, Serena finally asked what he meant.

“Emma wants to help. She’s worried she won’t be useful in the troupe, so just let her do what she wants to do,” Sebastian explained.

Serena’s eyes widened in understanding. She glanced sidelong at Sebastian, trying not to smile.

“What are you staring at?” Sebastian rolled his eyes at her and picked up his pace to catch up with Emma.

Emma, meanwhile, had just switched on her phone and popped in a local SIM card. As soon as she was connected, a flood of WhatsApp messages came through—mostly from her grandmother, just a couple, asking if she’d arrived safely.

She answered her grandmother first: Landed safe and sound.

Then she scrolled through the rest.

Fallon had messaged: Mrs. Carter, your husband is looking for you. He even asked me.

Emma replied: Just tell him you don’t know.

The rest of the messages were all from Theodore.

Where are you?

Why isn’t your phone working?

Are you at home?

Emma, don’t tell me you haven’t been back since yesterday!

Where on earth are you? There’s no sign of you on the security cameras!

The last time you showed up on camera was just after four in the morning. What were you doing up so early?

She’d even gotten her visa back then, but went home for summer break and never made it back.

Now, at last, it felt like her dream had come full circle.

Ms. Brown smiled at her. “Get some rest. I’m going to check in on the others.”

“Of course, Ms. Brown. If you need anything, just let me know!” Emma was eager to dive into work.

“Don’t worry—we don’t keep slackers in our troupe!” Ms. Brown teased, “But only if you’re well-rested first.”

Emma barely had time to lie down when her phone buzzed again—a message from Renee: Emma, is this you? It’s you, right?

Attached was a screenshot from Sebastian’s social feed.

He’d posted a collage: More beautiful than the sunrise.

Nine photos—airplane meals, snapshots of the new scenery, and, in the middle of them all, a candid shot of Emma gazing out the plane window at the sunrise, her profile bathed in golden light.