Sam returned from his circles and handed Nola a lemon. Twin leaves were still attached to it. She smiled her thanks, brought the fruit to her nose, and smelled. If she weren’t still on the run, with one of the men needing hospitalization, and this weren’t a military airstrip in Taiwan, the morning would seem like a picnic. She put the lemon under Lulu's nose. “Lemon.”

“Mun,” Lulu said.

“Lemon,” Nola repeated.

“Emun.” Lulu stuck out her tongue and licked its surface. Her mouth pursed in a cute scrunch. Nola laughed, squeezed her in delight. She lay still, sensing the fever-fighting, invigorating effects of the red drink in her bones. She looked up as the wind caressed and separated the sycamore leaves.

Nola noticed the figures, and at first thought they were mechanics, but startled, she sat up before the full impact of the knowledge hit her. More soldiers rounded the corner of the building. One minute there was no one but herself and the three ex-prisoners, the next moment there were shouts as the soldiers grabbed Sam, targeting him first.

Nola sprinted to her feet. “Stop it!” she shouted and ran over. The world tilted, and before she knew it, she was splayed on the ground. Hands grabbed her arms and legs, lifting her. As she was carried away she heard Lulu's shriek. Nola tried to look toward the sound, but her head dangled backwards, and her ponytail brushed the dust.

“Put me down,” she yelled and kicked. “Put me down!” With her feet gripped, her kicking jerked her joints until she heard them pop. This was a terrible mistake. Had the pilot saved them only to sell them here? Was he collecting on both ends?

She was thrown into the back of a Jeep, and the impact bruised her right knee. Her neck felt as though an ice pick had been inserted in it, and her skin was scraped hot and raw. Lulu was dropped on top of her, and Nola was relieved that her own body had cushioned the fall.

Her pulse leaped in fits and starts. She clutched Lulu. “Mommy’s here. Everything will be fine,” she whispered, surprised at her ability to fake bravery.

CHAPTER 36 (1997)

Fifteen months after vanishing, Jenna called Wade at his office from the Port Authority bus terminal. He reached Nola at the studio and she, too, rushed to Forty-second Street and Eighth Avenue.

Nola barely recognized the emaciated seventeen-year old. Jenna’s exposed arms and neck were covered with fresh scars Nola guessed were self-inflicted. Jenna's body odor was strong. Nola hugged her and touched the matted hair. Jenna disengaged herself from the hug and glared at her. “I’m so glad you’re back,” Nola said. “I’ve missed you so!”

“Bug off,” Jenna said. “Don’t start with me.”

“I’ll call a doctor to meet us at home,” Wade said quickly. “Let’s go.”

“No doctor!” Jenna yelled. “No doctor!”