A starving little girl played one melody on a Beverly Hills terrace—and I nearly dropped my glass when she told me who taught it to her.

I stared at the photo.

Richard’s bloodied face.

The cold steel of the warehouse behind him.

The message beneath.

Bring the girl.

I looked at Lily, sleeping peacefully in the armchair.

She was seven years old.

Seven.

And Marcus wanted to use her as a pawn.

Over my dead body.

I thought about what to do.

Call the police? No—Richard was right about that. Marcus owned too many of them.

Go alone? Even worse. I was a corporate lawyer from Boston. The most dangerous thing I’d ever done was jaywalk in Manhattan.

Then I remembered something Anna had said.

Under the bed.

A baseball bat.

I walked into the bedroom and knelt down.

Sure enough, there it was.

A heavy aluminum bat, wrapped in black tape at the handle.

I hefted it in my hand.

It felt good.

Solid.

Real.

Then I had another idea.

I pulled out my phone and called the only person I could think of who might actually be able to help.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered.

“Jake? It’s Charlotte. Charlotte Hale.”

“Charlotte? Jesus, do you know what time it is? It’s almost midnight.”

“I know. And I need your help. Bad. It’s Anna. She’s alive. And she’s in trouble.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

Jake Carter had been Anna’s high school boyfriend.

The only boy she’d ever really loved before Marcus.

He’d joined the Army after graduation, done three tours in Afghanistan, come home with a Purple Heart and a thousand-yard stare.

He now owned a security firm in LA.

I’d looked him up six months ago, on a whim, after another anniversary of Anna’s “death.”

We’d had coffee.

Cried together.

Promised each other we’d never give up looking.

“Anna’s alive?” Jake said, his voice suddenly sharp and awake.

“Yes. And she has a daughter. Lily. She’s seven. And some monster named Marcus Hale has Anna and my brother Richard hostage at the old cannery at Pier 47. He wants Lily in exchange for them. Jake… I don’t know what to do. I can’t take a seven-year-old to a hostage exchange with a cartel killer. But I can’t let my brother and sister die either.”

“Where are you now?”

“Anna’s apartment. East LA. 3B on Maple.”

“Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone except me. I’m bringing two of my best guys. We’ll be there in ten minutes. And Charlotte?”

“Yeah?”

“Nobody hurts your family. Not on my watch.”

He hung up.

I went back to the living room and sat beside Lily, the bat across my knees.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Charlotte? It’s Jake.”

I opened it.

Jake stood there, bigger than I remembered, wearing black tactical pants and a black hoodie, a holster visible under his arm.

Behind him were two equally large, equally serious-looking men.

“Is this them?” Jake asked, looking past me.

“Lily’s asleep on the chair. Anna and Richard are at the cannery.”

Jake stepped inside and knelt beside Lily.

He looked at her for a long moment.

“She has Anna’s eyes,” he said softly.

“I know.”

He stood.

“Okay, here’s the plan. Mike and Ron—you two stay here with the girl. Keep her safe. If anyone comes through that door who isn’t me or Charlotte, you stop them. Understood?”

The two men nodded.

“Charlotte—you’re with me. We’re going to the cannery. But we’re not doing this Marcus’s way. We’re doing it mine.”

Pier 47 was on the far edge of the industrial district, miles from anything resembling civilization.

The old cannery had been abandoned since the nineties—all broken windows and rusted metal and rumors of homeless encampments.

Jake parked his black SUV three blocks away and cut the engine.

“Here’s how this goes,” he said, pulling a second handgun from the glove compartment and checking the clip. “You’re going to walk up to the front door like you’re alone. Like you did what he said. You’re going to tell him Lily’s in the car, sleeping. That you didn’t want to wake her. You’re going to get him talking. Buy me time to get into position. Once I’m inside and have a clear shot, I’ll take him down.”

“Jake… what if he hurts them before you can get into position?”

“Then you improvise. Scream. Kick. Bite. Do whatever you have to do to keep them alive until I get there. But whatever happens… do NOT tell him Lily isn’t here. If he thinks you lied to him, he’ll kill all three of you before I can blink. Understand?”

I nodded, my mouth dry.

“Good. Now take this.”

He handed me the gun.

“I’ve never fired a weapon in my life.”

“Point and pull the trigger. That’s all you need to know. And Charlotte?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to miss.”

We got out of the car.

Jake vanished into the shadows between warehouses.

I walked alone toward the cannery, my heart hammering so loud I was sure Marcus could hear it three blocks away.

The front door was slightly ajar.

A single yellow lightbulb hung in the entryway, swinging in the wind, casting long, dancing shadows across the concrete floor.

I took a deep breath.

Stepped inside.

And called out.

“I’M HERE! LILY’S IN THE CAR! LET THEM GO!”

My voice echoed off the metal walls.

Then I heard clapping.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Coming from the back of the building.

A man stepped out of the shadows.

Tall.

Expensive suit.

Perfect hair.

Cold, dead eyes.

He was smiling.

“Charlotte Hale,” he said, his voice like oil on water. “So good to finally meet you. Anna’s told me so much about her big sister. The smart one. The responsible one. The lawyer.”

He took a step closer.

“Where’s Richard, you ask? Oh, he’s right here.”

He gestured to the side.

Two men dragged Richard into the light.

He looked worse than in the photo.

One arm hung at a strange angle.

Blood dripped from his chin onto the floor.

Then Anna was pushed forward from the other side.

Her face was pale, but she wasn’t hurt.

Not yet.

Her eyes found mine.

They were wide with terror.

Not for herself.

For me.

“Marcus,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could. “Let them go. I brought Lily, just like you asked. She’s in the car. Take me instead. Take the money. Take whatever you want. Just let them go.”

Marcus laughed.

It was a terrible sound.

“Take you instead? Oh, Charlotte, you really don’t understand how this works, do you? I don’t want you. I don’t want the girl. Not really. I want Richard to suffer. For eight years, he’s been a thorn in my side. Looking into my business. Hiring investigators. Planning my murder. Did you know that? Your dear brother was going to have me killed. Like I was some common criminal.”

He walked over to Richard and kicked him in the stomach.

Richard grunted in pain.

“STOP IT!” Anna screamed, lunging forward.

One of Marcus’s men grabbed her and held her back.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Marcus tsked. “No interrupting, my love. We’re having a family reunion. And I have so many plans for all of you. Richard is going to watch while I kill his sisters. Then I’m going to kill him. Then I’m going to go out to that car and meet my daughter for the first time. I’ve always wanted a child, you know. And Lily… well, she’ll be raised properly. To know who her father really is. To take over the business one day. It’ll be beautiful.”

He pulled a gun from his own jacket and pointed it at Anna’s head.

“Any last words, baby?”

Anna looked at me.

And mouthed three words.

I. Love. You.