“Bella,” I said carefully, when she didn’t shrink back from Saskia’s presence, “the person who took you—”

“Took me?” Bella held the water bottle closer. “No one took me.” For the first time since we’d found her, she smiled. “My angel saved me.”

“Saved you,” I repeated. Someone had hauled Bella all over this mountain. Someone had built the rudimentary shelter she was sitting under now.

“Mommy and Daddy said I wasn’t supposed to wander off.” Bella looked down, pulling her legs tight to her chest. “I wasn’t supposed to, but I did.”

She shivered. I knew the chilling shadow of memory when I saw it. Without much thought, I pulled closer to her.

“I wanted to see the river.” Bella squeezed her eyes shut. “The side was slick. It didn’t look slick.…”

“You’re okay,” I murmured. “You got out.” I found myself thinking back to her earlier claim. “The person who took you—”

“My angel.”

“Your angel…saved you.” I brought my hand very close to Bella’s but left it to her to close the distance. “You fell in the river, and this…angel…pulled you out.”

“I was so cold.” Bella opened her eyes, but I knew instinctively that she couldn’t see me. She was seeing something else. “The angel wrapped me in a blanket. The angel built a fire.”

I had no doubts that Bella’s “angel” was a person—just like I had no doubts that the person in question had been dodging the authorities for days.

“This angel,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Why didn’t they bring you back to camp?”

“Mommy and Daddy left.” Bella’s voice was matter-of-fact. “I was bad, and they left, and the angel promised to take care of me until they got back.”

Whoever had pulled Bella from the river had told her that her parents were gone. They’d let her believe it was her fault. A spark of rage caught fire inside me, but I smothered it, lest Bella see even a hint of anger on my face.

“The angel promised to take care of me,” Bella repeated softly. “And I promised to help the angel.”

Those words sent a chill down my spine. “Help?” I repeated. “Help with what?”

Bella didn’t answer.

“Your angel,” I said, suddenly on high alert. “Are they close by? Are they coming back?”

Still no answer from Bella.

“Can you tell me what the angel looks like?” I knew, even before I asked the question, that Bella wouldn’t answer this, either. The tiny hand that had been creeping toward mine pulled back, her fingers curling inward.

Don’t push. Don’t scare her. Don’t force her to talk.

I shifted backward, giving her space, even as my mind began to race. I had to get her out of here. I had to get her home.