Of course, knowing this makes my fear for Julian’s safety on the upcoming trip even more intense. As his departure time approaches, my joy over his confession fades, and anxiety takes its place.

I don’t want Julian to leave. Every time I think of him going on this mission, I’m gripped by a suffocating sense of dread. I know there is an irrational component to my fear, but that doesn’t lessen it in any way. Aside from the very real danger Julian will face, I’m simply afraid to be alone. We’ve spent so little time apart in the past couple of months that the thought of being without him for even a few days makes me feel deeply stressed and uneasy.

It doesn’t help that I have exams and papers galore, or that my parents have been steadily pressuring me to come for a visit—something that Julian won’t allow until the Al-Quadar threat is fully contained.

“You can’t leave the estate, but they can come visit us here if you’d like,” he tells me during shooting practice one afternoon. “I would advise against it, though. Right now your parents are more or less off the radar, but the more contact I appear to have with your family, the more danger they’ll be in. It’s up to you, though. Just say the word, and I’ll send a plane for them.”

“No, that’s okay,” I say hastily. “I don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to them.” And raising my gun, I start shooting at the beer cans on the far edge of the field, letting the now-familiar jolt of the weapon take away some of my frustration.

I realized that my parents are in danger a couple of days after we came to the estate. To my relief, Julian told me that he’d already put a discreet security detail on them—highly trained bodyguards whose job is to protect my family while letting them go about their lives. The alternative, he explained, is to bring them to the estate with us—a solution that my parents rejected as soon as I brought it up.

“What? We’re not moving to Colombia to live with an illegal arms dealer!” my dad exclaimed when I told him about the potential danger. “Who does that bastard think he is? I just got a new job—not to mention, we can’t leave all of our friends and relatives!”

And that was as far as that got. I can’t say I blame my parents for not wanting to move halfway across the world to be with me in my abductor’s compound. They’re still young, both in their early forties, and they’ve always led active, busy lives. My dad plays lacrosse nearly every weekend, and my mom has a group of girlfriends who get together for wine and gossip on a regular basis. My parents are also still very much in love with each other, with my dad constantly surprising my mom with little gifts of flowers, chocolate, or a dinner out. Growing up, I had no doubt that they both loved me, but I also knew that I wasn’t the absolute epicenter of their lives.