“You know how it works.” There was an unspoken rule between kidnappers and their targets. The victims always paid in full, and the criminals never killed anyone. Not yet, anyway. But then, no one had ever asked for three hundred million before. That wasn’t my problem. And if I were a betting man, the ransom would be in the ghost account within the hour.

“Can I use your bathroom?” she asked.

I nodded toward the door and she disappeared within, shutting it behind her. I took the moment of privacy to pace the room and analyze my situation. I’d give her family two hours to hustle up the funds. Once cleared, I could deliver the girl back to the night market.

The shower had been running for some time, and I went to the bathroom door, which didn’t lock. “The window’s too small to crawl through,” I shouted. “And the drop to the other side will break your legs, if not your neck.”

The water turned off after another minute. She came out, looking exactly the same and still smelling of strawberries.

“Do you need a towel?” I asked, hiding a smirk behind the last apple I had found in the refrigerator drawer.

“No, thank you,” she said coolly, then proceeded to drink the vitapak I handed her with dainty sips. “Don’t you have any solid foods to eat?”

“Does this look like a five-star you establishment to you?” I asked. “I’ve only got liquids.” Because I couldn’t afford anything more. “Although . . .” Suddenly remembering, I opened a kitchen cabinet. “I do have two rousong bao from the bakery.”

I gave her one of the buns. “Don’t blame me if you get a stomachache,” I said, taking a big bite out of mine.

She stared at it for a long time, finally trying a nibble and chewing slowly before swallowing. Then she sat very still, as if waiting to die. I finished mine and brushed off my hands. “Well?” I was still hungry.

She took a full bite the next time, challenging me with a lift of her chin. “It’s good,” she said. She glanced out the expansive windows. “Are we on Yangmingshan?” she asked.

“No,” I lied. “Is that the only mountain you know in Taiwan?”

“I haven’t traveled much out of Taipei.” Her face took on an expression that looked like yearning as she gazed into the trees. “Can we go outside?”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “No.”

“I’ve never been in the mountains before. I won’t run away.”

“You’d get lost. And die.”

She walked to the giant window and pressed herself against it. I wondered what it was like, never having been in the mountains or seen the jungle so close—never to have gone outdoors without a glass bowl over your head.