MARISA AND NATE PACED near the fountain in Bryant Park. Marisa had never been to this little green haven in the middle of midtown. Under different circumstances, she'd enjoy it. The sun was shining, and it seemed everybody who could be out today was taking advantage of it. She'd always loved springtime in New York, when even the hardest folks would thaw from their winter gloom, crack a smile occasionally. People in suits and jeans and skirts and all manner of attire munched their lunches at the many round tables that rimmed the grassy area. A few children played tag, and two rode small bikes with training wheels. The sounds of birds chirping and children laughing and cars passing and people talking all mingled in a discordant symphony, while the scents from the hot dog vendor on the corner brought back memories of happy times. All around them, buildings stood like sentinels. The sun was shining on the park for now, but the skyscrapers would block it soon enough.

The scene was perfect, and her fingers itched to sketch it. Anything to take her mind off the truth, if only for a second. The sounds, the scents, they should all calm her nerves. They didn't.

She looked at Nate. "What time is it?"

He glanced at his wrist patiently, though she'd asked the question three times already. "She was coming from an appointment."

"Where was she?"

"With a client on Madison Avenue."

Marisa turned toward the famous street. "That's just a block from here."

"It's a long street. Let's not worry yet."

"Easy for you to..." She glanced at his raised eyebrows and stopped. "Sorry."

Nate led her to nearby table. "Shall we sit?"

"I can't. We're close. Don't you feel it?"

He nodded slowly. "We shouldn't hang all our hopes on this. You could be wrong."

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she clenched her fists. "You think I'm wrong?" She couldn't be wrong. She couldn't. Wrong meant they were no closer to Ana. Wrong meant her daughter would die.

Nate pulled out a chair. "I'm just saying—"

"We have nothing else! If I'm wrong..."

He reached for her hand, but she stepped away. He dropped his arm. "I don't think you're wrong. I'm just saying, let's not get our hopes up too high."

When she didn't sit in the chair he offered, he leaned against the table and pulled out his phone. She couldn't see what he was looking at, but his eyebrows scrunched up, and his mouth formed a frown. She'd been with him enough to know he was thinking pretty hard about something, and she was about to ask what it was when she spotted Jessica.