"But it could have, and we'd be stuck—"

"I checked the weather, Marisa. You have to trust me."

Brady lit the fire, and she stared into the flames for a moment as the paper burned. The twigs he'd stacked caught, and one of the logs started to flicker and hiss.

How long had it been since she'd seen a fire in a fireplace? A very long time.

Sam approached and slid the tray of baked goods and a plate in front of her on the counter. Marisa turned and met her eyes.

"It's good you came back here," Sam said. "You needed your rest."

"I need to know my daughter's okay."

Sam and Nate shared a look, and the bottom dropped out of Marisa's stomach. Ana was dead. They'd found her body, and nobody'd wanted to tell Marisa. It was over. She whipped round to face Nate. "What didn't you tell me? Is she—?"

"Nothing happened," he said. "Nothing's changed."

She studied his face. "Why are you lying to me?"

"As far as we know, Ana and Leslie are fine. And I'm not lying. I just want to wait until you have some coffee before we get into it."

"Get into what?"

He sighed.

Rae slid the coffee across the bar to her. "Cream? Sugar?"

Marisa ignored her and stared at Nate.

"Get your coffee, eat some breakfast, and we'll talk."

"I don't want to eat."

"It's not optional."

She could tell by the set of his mouth that he wasn't kidding. She could throttle him or eat. Eating was faster, even if the food tasted like cardboard. She snatched a muffin off the tray and took a bite. When she'd swallowed, she said, "Satisfied?"

"Is it good?"

She's hadn't noticed. Banana nut, she thought. She set it on the plate. "It's fine."

He nodded to the sofa in front of the fire. "Let's go where it's warm."

She sat on the end of the long sofa nearest the fire. Sam chose a club chair opposite her, and Rae perched in the love seat across from the fireplace. Nate followed a minute later with Marisa's coffee and muffin and set them on the table before he sat beside her.

Brady futzed with the fire another minute before he sat beside his wife.

When Brady moved out of the way, Marisa could feel the heat from the flames. She stared at them, wondering what terrible news Nate had for her and trying to figure out how she'd ended up in the middle of a fire herself. She'd built a life. She'd fallen in love with the people in Mexico, tried to serve them well.

She imagined the ancient chapel in the orphanage, where the priest had come every week to teach the kids about God. "God is on your side," he'd said. How she'd wanted to believe it. But Ana's kidnapping had taught her better. If God existed, he didn't care about her. She was on her own.