Her name is Jennifer Hartman, or perhaps Dorothy Holder. She has birth certificates that say both. She got the names from old obituary files, and then went to the county clerk to ask for new copies. Her real name doesn’t matter, because her former life is gone. Since she went on the run, she has surprised herself with her ingenuity. She makes her way to Los Angeles and takes a room in an unassuming, out-of-the-way motel. She destroys her credit cards but keeps her old driver’s license—she has one last use for it. She enrolls in flying lessons, taking three or four a week in order to master the small plane as quickly as possible. Her plan is complex but, if it works, brilliant.

She is fleeing her husband. A single error will mean death, but she is through with mistakes.