Chapter 4

      Kaira said her goodbyes to the group of other contestants and crossed the street. The reception had ended and everyone was gathering down the street at a bar to continue the festivities, but she wasn’t up to it. Fever still heated her skin, her hip joints ached and tenderness had settled into her left side. Ever since her encounter with the older man—Jakob, he’d called himself—she’d felt shaky. Ridiculous, really. Nothing had happened. But her body didn’t seem to be convinced.

      She dipped her chin further underneath the chunky scarf and held the collar of her wool dress coat closed at her throat. Should’ve brought a change of clothes, but when she’d left her little, out-of-the-way hotel this afternoon, it hadn’t seemed necessary. Now she was cold and tired and feeling the weight of her illness, and the two-block walk back to the bus stop seemed like two miles. Especially in heels. If it wasn’t so cold, she’d have slipped them off and walked in her bare feet.

      Turning the corner, Kaira distracted herself from her aches by replaying the night’s highlights in her mind’s eye. Two of her photographs had already sold. She’d had great conversations with the rest of the judges—everyone seemed universally impressed with her vision for the series and especially with her violet aurora. She could’ve broken out into a dance in the middle of the gallery. And she’d had a promising conversation with a travel editor at a magazine based out of Copenhagen. All in all, one of the best nights of her life.