Chapter 12 Vanishing Act

• The sound of scissors slicing through plastic echoed in Samantha's kitchen as I cut up another credit card. My hands shook slightly, but I forced myself to finish the job. Each snip felt like cutting away a piece of my old life.
• "Are you sure about this?" Samantha asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. The concern in her eyes made my throat tighten.
• "I have to be," I replied, dropping the plastic shards into a small pile. "If I keep using these cards, they can track me."