“She could.” He didn’t sound bothered by this. “But if we don’t tell her where we’re going, and we let her go right before we leave for the airport, by the time she calls people and gets assistance, we’ll be long gone.”

Nita didn’t like this plan. She didn’t like it one bit. It was broken and flawed and messy, and there were far too many points to possibly account for. It was unpredictable beyond belief.

It relied on assuming Gold would pay back Kovit’s kindness with kindness. And in Nita’s experience, the exact opposite was more likely to happen.

It was a monumentally stupid decision.

But it wasn’t her decision to make.

She let out a breath. “And this is what you want?”

“Yes.” Kovit’s gaze was steady. “This is what I want.”

“All right.” Nita sighed. “We’ll release her right before the flight, then.”

Nita didn’t like it, but it was Kovit’s life, and she’d already pressured him enough about killing people he cared about. Even if Nita was right and it was a mistake, it was Kovit’s mistake to make.

No matter how the outcome might hurt Nita in the long run.

“I’ll book three tickets for tonight, then.” Nita pulled out her phone and looked up. “Does Fabricio have his passport with him?”

“It was in his pocket when I searched him last night.”

“Good.” Nita looked down at the phone and let out a breath. “Then there’s only one thing I need to do before we leave.”

Kovit raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Nita met his eyes. “I need to go see my mother.”

Thirteen

THE AFTERNOON SUN was high in the sky, and it was a cloudless day. Sweat trickled down Nita’s back, and not just from the heat.

She’d arranged to meet her mother at the park near the police station where they’d last met. The gravel pathway crunched beneath her feet, the shade from the trees providing a brief respite from the sun. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and some flower, little bits of pollen floating along on the breeze and catching in her curly hair.

A few people wandered about, families with small children, couples holding hands. Nita couldn’t imagine wandering a park with her mother as a child. She could barely believe she was meeting her of her own volition, without the threat of her mother’s punishment motivating her.

Her last meeting with her mother had gone well. Better than Nita had ever imagined. Nita wasn’t even that scared of seeing her again.

No. That was a lie. She was still scared. She would probably always be scared. One good meeting didn’t change years of ingrained terror.