She was going to see Ana.

One way or another, Marisa was going to see that her daughter made it to safety. Nate would take care of her if Marisa couldn't.

And there was that bloody image of Nate again. Was he still alive, or had he given his life for her, for Ana? She couldn't bear to lose another person she loved.

Loved. The realization made long forgotten pieces of her heart fall into place. She loved Nate. For so many reasons.

She couldn't think about that now, not until this was all over. But if Nate survived, and if Marisa survived, and if they got Ana back safely, she'd think about it. She'd do more than think about it. She'd act on it. Tell him how she felt, and maybe, just maybe...

She thought of the kiss they'd shared.

She thought of the blood trickling from his head.

She had to focus.

And maybe she wasn't going to survive the night. If that's what it took to keep Ana safe, so be it. Nate and Brady and Rae and Sam—they'd take care of Ana, if Marisa couldn't.

But she would do whatever she had to do to save Ana. Her sweet daughter would live.

Marisa stepped onto the first of three rickety steps of a cabin just around the edge of the lake from the one where she and Nate had been staying. The creak of worn wood echoed against the silent night.

The kidnapper reached beyond her and yanked open the screen. The front door was already open. He shoved her, and she stumbled through.

Even with just a dim light coming from over the stove in the kitchen, she could tell it was nothing like their cabin. Dingy walls. Dingy floors. Dingy everything. But it was warm, and Ana was here.

The kidnapper pushed her down on the plaid sofa and locked the door behind them.

He stood in front of her. "You're going to tell me where the money is, right now. Or I'm going to kill your daughter. And you're going to watch me do it."

The threat dripped down her spine like sludge. She had to get her daughter out of there. "I want to see Ana."

He pointed to a hallway on her right. "She's back there. She's asleep." He stalked across the room, and for a moment, Marisa thought he might be going to get Ana. He snatched something off the kitchen table, swiveled, and returned. He set it on the coffee table in front of her and opened it. A laptop. The screen burned her eyes in the dark room. "You can transfer it into my account right now. Then I'll leave, and you'll never see me again. You and your daughter will be safe. You have one minute."