He stepped back, lifted his hands. "Whoa. Look, I was happy to help, but now I'm out."

"Marisa trusts you."

"She trusts you, too." He pointed to the drawing. "Or she wouldn't have left you that message."

"She left it with you, Nate."

"It doesn't matter. I can't—"

"I'm scared to go home, okay?" She paused, swallowed, as if the admission had cost her. "I just...can I please just stay here. I'll help you pack. I'll be quiet, I promise, and...Marisa trusts you. So I trust you."

He glared. He didn't need this woman here, cluttering up his life. He'd planned to finish packing the next day and and move for good. The house was already under contract. With no job in Manhattan, no former coworkers who cared to keep in touch, no friends here in Queens, there was no reason to hang around. Certainly not to help this woman with whatever wild goose chase she was on. Even if she was in danger.

Even if Marisa was in danger.

The thought made his pulse race, and he pulled in a deep breath, then another until he thought he could talk again.

As Leslie watched, her eyes filled with fear and pleading. "I'm a good packer. And I own a cleaning company. When you're through, I can have my crew clean the house for you, no charge."

Was she crazy? Did she think he'd risk his life to avoid cleaning his own house?

Okay, he was being melodramatic, and her offer was tempting. He could use the extra set of hands. And the woman needed his help.

And to communicate with Marisa again...

He could practically hear his counselor's voice. "To not risk is to not live. The world isn't that dangerous."

It was, though. Danger lurked around every corner. And perhaps right here, right now.

But Leslie was in danger. God knew, he wanted to send the woman away. But no matter how much the thought of helping her terrified him, he couldn't live with the alternative.

"Fine. Let me get my computer."

Chapter 2

WHEN MARISA VEGA WAS a little girl, dreaming of her future, this life had never crossed her mind. Who knew it could be so good? She'd escaped New York eight years earlier and thought her life was over. Without Vinnie, without her sister, without her parents, what did she have to live for?

She brushed her teeth, showered, and braided her hair before she tiptoed back into her bedroom and looked at the sleeping form on the far side of the bed. Curly dark brown hair peeked above the blanket. Marisa had memorized the beautiful face hidden beneath, those dark chocolate eyes. She'd fallen in love the first moment she'd seen the child as a newborn, still pink from birth, silent as if she'd given up on the world. Aside from when she slept, that may have been the last time Ana was quiet.