Her bag fell. Oranges rolled across the snow. The last thing Hannah saw was a dark van door sliding open.

She woke tied to a steel chair inside an abandoned waterfront warehouse. Her head throbbed and her wrists were bound behind her. Broken windows revealed rusted cranes, frozen docks, and the dark water of New York Harbor.

Marcus Vale stood a few feet away in a charcoal coat.

“You’re more troublesome than you appear,” he said.

Hannah tested the rope. “Where is Lucas?”

Marcus smiled. “Still thinking about someone else’s child.”