The place he'd been planning to escape to just nine days before. Nate looked around at the quaint cabins. "Yeah. This is perfect."

"I agree."

"What about Mexico?"

"It was fine. I could have lived there forever. But it wasn't ideal. Too hot."

Nate imagined the little village she'd lived in. "And the poverty."

"I didn't mind that. That's how most of the world lives. And the people there have food and shelter. It wasn't the poverty that bothered me. It was the crime. The drugs. The disappearances. There are people who volunteer every weekend to comb through fields known to be dumping spots, looking for human remains, so they can tell the families what happened to their loved ones. As if that'll bring them peace."

Nate swallowed the disgust that rose. He didn't know what to say.

"But what peace can there be?" she said. "The families of those who'd disappeared, they want their loved ones back. Knowing they're dead... It just kills hope."

"But maybe not knowing is torture, too."

"It is." She sighed, and her shoulders slumped a little. "It is. But at least... To think Ana's still alive. It's all I'm living for right now."

He let go of her hand and slid his arm around her back. The move was so natural, but he worried she'd pull away. Would the kiss they'd shared change things between them?

He hadn't needed to worry. She leaned into him. He waited for sniffing or tears, but she seemed spent.

"If Mexico wasn't your ideal place to live, what is?"

She took in the vista, the tall trees on the small mountain in the distance. She turned and stared, for just a moment, into his eyes. Then she dropped her gaze. "Wherever Ana is, that's where I want to be."

Chapter 25

MARISA STARED IN SILENCE at the scene in front of her, hardly seeing it.

Nate had kissed her. And she'd kissed him back. And she'd liked it.

What kind of mother thinks of romance when her daughter is missing? If she never got Ana back, could she ever open her heart to anyone again? Eight years had passed since Vinnie died. She hadn't kissed a man, hadn't even been on a date, in eight years. And then Nate had walked into her life, and she suddenly felt like a foolish schoolgirl.

While her daughter was missing. While her sister rested in a morgue.

But Nate had been with her through it all. He'd held her while she'd cried, strengthened her when she'd been on the verge of crumbling to pieces, and dug into the truth with her, for her, to find a little girl he barely knew. This thing with Nate didn't feel like some random romance. It felt like...like safety.

Kissing Nate hadn't been about fun or even escape from the evil reality she was living. Kissing Nate had felt as natural as crying for Ana. Nate felt like home.