She climbed back to the top of the steps and looked like she was going to walk back down. In the yellow lights of the plaza, he could see her face pale. "The van. Where did it go?"

He looked back to the street. The van was gone.

"Someone took them!"

"Why would somebody—?"

"Oh, my God. We have to call the police. Do you have a phone?" She looked around frantically, as if a cop might materialize.

A phone rang. She looked at him, but the ring wasn't familiar.

"That's not my phone," Nate said. "It must be yours."

"I don't have a phone." She looked around, but there were no people within ten yards of them.

His heart sunk into a deep crevice that felt frighteningly familiar. "Look in your bag."

She shook her head. "I don't have a phone, and we don't have time..."

It rang again. The sound was clearly coming from her new colorful bag.

"Maybe that guy dropped it," she said.

A stone formed in Nate's stomach, twisting and expanding as the seconds passed. "Please answer it, Marisa."

She dug through her bag and pulled out a cheap phone. He looked, saw the number was blocked. She pressed the button. "Sí."

She listened for a moment. "Yes." Her expression confirmed his fear.

He leaned in.

"By now..." The man's voice was marked by a heavy New York accent. "You must realize we have your sister and your daughter."

Marisa crumpled. He wrapped his arm around her and helped her sit on the stairs.

"Marisa," the man said. "You need to answer me. You understand I have them, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to see them again?"

"Please, whatever you want me to do. Just... Please, let's do a trade. You can take me and let them go."

"If I wanted to take you, I would have you. You understand?"

She looked at Nate, eyes imploring. He nodded, and she said, "Yes."

"That man who's with you, Nate. Is he listening?

Nate nodded again, and Marisa said, "Yes."

"Okay, good. You two need to get the money that was stolen from Charles Gray's account. Two million. You have one week. We'll make the trade in the States."

"Wait, but—"

"Keep that phone with you, and I'll call with the details."

"But I don't know where the money is."

"I would prefer small bills."

"I'm not lying. Please, I'll do anything to get my daughter back—"

"Get me the money or show me who has it. That's the deal."

"Who are you?"

"Money or proof. Do you understand? Yes or no."

She opened her mouth, but Nate shook his head. He put his hand over hers on the phone and leaned it toward him. "We need to talk to Leslie and Ana, make sure they're all right."

A moment passed, and Nate feared the man had hung up. But then Leslie's voice said, "Marisa?"