At this moment, Maureen didn't know where she could go.
She bought a plane ticket with cash, ordered a cup of coffee, hugged her coat and sat down, staring blankly at the pitter-patter rain outside.
She watched planes take off one by one from the tarmac through the floor-to-ceiling window, yet she did not board.
Everyone else seemed to have a destination, but she was clueless about her own.
Finally, she sat all day at the airport with her suitcase, tore up the ticket she had bought, and aimlessly dragged her luggage, planning to leave.
When she was about to leave, Maureen accidentally dropped her passport onto the floor.
A minute later, Her passport was picked up by a slender hand defined with distinct knuckles. The owner of this hand was a young man.
The young man was holding a black long-handle umbrella, standing out from the crowd with his dazzling red short hair.
