She feared the noise of the Jacuzzi would frighten her daughter, so instead of turning on the jets, Marisa simply squirted shampoo into the water's stream, and the oversize tub soon filled with bubbles. The scent of strawberries wafted through the room.

"I'm going to have to let you go to give you a bath," Marisa said.

Ana held on tighter.

She couldn't blame her. Marisa didn't want to let Ana go, either. Still... "How about this? How about we both get in the tub. Will that work?"

A tiny shrug.

Marisa didn't mind getting wet. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of soaking her pajamas, but Rae had left a second pair, and these were bloody anyway. She shut off the water, tested its temperature—a little cold for her taste, but Ana would like it—and stepped inside. She sat, let the warm water soak her pajama pants and realized how very cold she'd been.

She eased Ana down, a little at a time, until the girl was sitting on the bottom of the tub between her legs.

"You okay?"

Ana didn't say anything for a moment. Then, "This is like a swimming pool." Her eyes were wide as she took in the bathroom. "Is it safe?"

"It's safe. I promise."

The little girl giggled, and the sound dripped like honey over Marisa's soul.

"Mama, you forgot to take our clothes off!"

Marisa smiled. "How could I take our clothes off when you wouldn't let me go?"

Ana's smile faded.

"But it's okay. We can do it right now. Arms up!"

Ana lifted her arms, and Marisa slid the filthy dress over her head and urged off the stained underwear. Had her child really worn the same things for week? The dress barely resembled the one Nate had bought her back in Acapulco. She squeezed some of the water out and set it on the side of the tub.

She took a fortifying breath and studied her daughter's skin.

No bruises that she could see.

She soaped up the washcloth and set about washing the week of terror off the tiny girl, studying every inch for marks. Except for a small bruise on her arm, Marisa didn't see any evidence that the man had hurt her.

She closed her eyes. Gracias, Dios. God had kept her safe.

Ana was thinner than she had been, her little ribs outlined beneath her skin. The thought of her sweet pajarita, hungry, held captive...

Tears filled her eyes. She tried to hide them, hoped Ana wouldn't notice. But her daughter was far too observant for that.

She sat opposite her mother and brushed the tears away. "I'm sorry, Mama."

"Oh, sweetie, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I told Aunt Leslie I couldn't get in the van with that man, but she said it would be okay. That we were playing a trick on you. I didn't want to, but she picked me up, and I couldn't get away."