Prologue

PROLOGUE

Four days ago…

“I want my mother.”

Evie Mitchell turned to the terrified little girl sitting to her right. Nine-year-old Armineh Shah was sitting with her butt in the dirt with her back leaning against the rough rock wall behind them. Tears welled in the young girl’s terrified eyes as they searched Evie’s in a desperate, silent plea for help.

“You’ll be with both your parents again very soon,” Evie reassured her young student.

“P-promise?”

A forced smile lifted the corners of her dry, chapped lips as she held Armineh’s fearful gaze. “I promise,” she whispered softly.

God forgive me if I’m lying.

In her heart, Evie believed her words to be true. Their kidnappers had to release them soon. They had to.

The alternative was too horrifying to accept.

“It is an impossible thing, what you say.” The muttered comment came from the girl at Evie’s left. “You do not know if we will be freed. None of us do.”

Of the four Afghan students Evie had been assigned to teach, Benesh Sayyid was the youngest. A few months from turning nine, the tiny bit of a thing was wise beyond her years and sharp as a tack.

“You’re wrong, Benesh,” she countered. “It’s not impossible. You heard what the men who took us said. As soon as the ransom demands are met, we will be released and reunited with our families.”

It was clear by the look on the girl’s saddened face that she wasn’t convinced.

“We have already been here four days.” Benesh’s accent was thick, like the others’, but her English was spoken with clarity. “They have stopped bringing us food…we are barely allowed any water…and the bathroom smells disgusting.”

Despite the truth in Benesh’s words, Evie felt her lips lift into a more genuine smile. With a friendly, gentle nudge, she told the frustrated girl, “You’re right. The bathroom does smell disgusting.”

Even calling it a “bathroom” was such a massive stretch. The space they took them to do their business was little more than a hole carved into one of the walls inside the mountainous cave serving as their prison.

Inside were two small but deep holes she and the girls were forced to use as latrines.

“That is because boys use it,” Sadia Rahman used a matter-of-fact tone. “Girl bathrooms are clean and smell like flowers and perfume.”

“Sadia is right.” Malalai Alam, the fourth and final girl in Evie’s care, kicked the dry dirt with her heel with a pout. “If my brother were with us, he would say this one smells like shi?—”

“Malalai!” Evie scolded as she leaned forward to meet her student’s dark gaze.

She didn’t let her students see the hidden smile tugging at her dry, cracked lips.

“My apologies, Miss Evie.” The young girl lowered her head in shame. “My father would surely give me a lashing if I said such a word in his presence.” A single tear drew a shimmering line through the dirt on Benesh’s adorable cheek. “Even so, I wish he were here.”

“I know you do, honey,” Evie took the frightened child’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “We’re all scared and frustrated by the situation, but we can’t give up hope. The second we do that, those men out there win. And we don’t want the bad guys to win…do we?”

They can’t win. They just can’t!

“No, Miss Evie.” Malalai tightened her hold, giving a jerky shake of her head.

At nearly the exact same time, Armineh, Sadia, and Benesh each offered a united, “No.”

Though their situation was still as dire as ever, her students' strength in the present sent a renewed sense of hope flourishing up from somewhere deep inside. Evie understood the terror they must be feeling because she was absolutely scared out of her wits.

Father warned you something like this could happen. He warned you, and you didn’t listen.

The truth was she hadn’t been concerned about her personal safety, or that of her students, because of their tender age.

Current Taliban laws stated girls over the age of twelve weren’t allowed to attend school or receive any sort of formal education. Because the girls she’d been charged with teaching were below the cutoff, Evie hadn’t considered themselves targets.

She also hadn’t considered the possibility that a group of militant extremists who believed all females—despite their ages—should be denied the right to learn would kidnap them and hold them against their will.

He tried to tell you.

Of its own accord, her scattered mind began replaying the last conversation Evie had shared with her father. The day had been sunny and bright. So perfect, in fact, she couldn’t recall even a single cloud hovering above her in the brilliant blue sky.

Of course, the multi-million-dollar view from her family’s estate in the Hamptons had always taken her breath away. Between the vast, open skies, white, sandy beach, and sparkling blue water for as far as the eye could see, there wasn’t a single thing she didn’t love.

But then, as she always eventually did, Evie had forced herself to turn away from the water to face the monstrosity that was a so-called home. Even now, with her butt numb from having sat in the same position for far too long, she could almost feel the heavy, gut-tightening sense of dread that always came with stepping foot inside her family’s estate.

It hadn’t come as a surprise when her father had expressed his disapproval of her plan to travel to Afghanistan. In fact, he’d flat-out forbidden it.

I’ve looked the other way for the last time. You do this, consider yourself out.

It was the last thing the man had said to her that day before turning and leaving the room.

“Do you think your father will pay for your safe return?”

Evie spun her gaze toward Sadia. The wary expression directly contradicted the child’s usual happy-go-lucky attitude. But even someone as blissful and positive as Sadia had their limits, and from the skeptical expression on the little girl’s dirt- smudged face, Evie knew her optimistic young student was on the brink of reaching hers.

“Of course, he will.” Evie sounded far more convinced than she actually felt.

There was more than enough money in the bank. Of that, she was certain. Paying the combined ransom amounts—hers plus the four girls’—would be the equivalent of Evie spending the loose change buried deep within her couch cushions.

So, no. Her father wouldn’t let her rot in this place with monsters who called themselves men. She’d make the call; he’d pay the money. And soon, she and the girls would be on their way back home.

You willing to bet your life on that? Because that’s pretty much what you’re doing.

No, it was exactly what she was doing. Evie was betting not only her life but also the four precious, innocent souls she’d been charged with keeping safe.

She was betting it all on the hope that her father would find some sliver of compassion in his money-hungry heart and arrange for their immediate release. Unfortunately, all they could do now was wait.

And wait is what they did.

For the next several hours, she and the girls passed the time by telling stories. They of their favorite memories to date, and Evie of the times she’d been most mischievous as a child.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t be telling her students about the few harmless stunts she’d pulled as a teenager. But it was never anything truly bad.

Mostly, Evie told them about the times she’d snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to sit by the pool and read beneath the stars. Or when she’d spy on the help or her father and his colleagues, eavesdropping on their hushed—and hopelessly boring—conversations.

Her imaginative side had always hoped for some massive revelation. Like discovering that their cook was actually in the CIA or that the gardener was some international assassin who worked for the good guys.

The silly stories made the girls smile and—on the rarest of occasions—even laugh. So, to Evie, that alone was worth any potentially bad influence she may or may not have bestowed.

“I do not think I have ever been this hungry,” Armineh complained.

She couldn’t blame the poor girl. They were all so very, very hungry.

Evie opened her mouth with the intent of appeasing her student again when the rugged, wood-slat door pushed open, and one of the kidnappers stormed inside.

“You!” He marched straight over to where she sat. “Come with me.”

Before she could even think of protesting, the man reached down, grabbed hold of her upper arm, and yanked her roughly to her feet.

“Hey! That hurts!” Evie instinctively tried pulling herself free. “Where are you taking me?”

Hauling her unceremoniously toward the room’s exit, the man growled back, “Move! No talk!”

“Miss Evie!” One of the girls cried out in her defense.

Another one begged the man, “Please don’t hurt her!”

She could hear the girls’ whimpers and sniffles as she stumbled, nearly falling to the dirt floor below when the jerk shoved her roughly through the open doorway. For the sake of her students, Evie did her best to put on a brave front.

“I’ll go where you want,” she informed her escort. “You don’t have to push.”

“I said, no talk!” He yanked her down one of the cave’s crude tunnels.

What looked to be dug by hand, the labyrinth of hallways and rooms must have taken ages to complete. And given that she and the girls had each had their heads covered with black hoods for the ride here, Evie guessed very few people were privy to the hideout’s location.

A fact that didn’t exactly bode well with her hope of being found.

The smell of the makeshift bathroom filled her nostrils well before they passed it. Evie wanted to ask more questions. To demand this man tell her where he was taking her. But she bit back her inquiry, fearing she’d only anger him further.

They continued following the shadowed path. Positioned in wide, even intervals at the base of the walls, Evie noted several small, battery-operated lamps dimly lighting their way. A rough, painful pull of her upper arm swiftly brought her wandering thoughts back into focus.

Several more rooms were passed as she was forcefully guided down a second corridor on their left. Some, presumably used as sleeping quarters, held blankets, pillows, lamps, and books.

Evie was led past another carved-out room. A modest wooden desk and chair faced her from its place near the back wall. As they passed, she caught sight of a handful of manila folders stacked neatly on the desk’s rugged surface.

The man slowed his steps as they approached the next room on the right.

This one had a crude, wooden-slat door blocking their path. Her jerk of a guard kept his tight hold on her upper arm as he used his free hand to slide the door out of their way. With the path now clear, the man shoved her unceremoniously inside.

The first thing Evie noticed was the slivers of moonlight cutting through the dusty, dank air. A small, glassless window positioned high in the center of the room’s exterior wall allowed for the natural night light, and after having spent days in what amounted to a dark prison cell wondering if she’d ever be set free, it was a welcomed sight to behold.

Soak it in, Evie. This just might be the last time you ever see it.

“Inside.”

Other than herself and the jerk who accompanied her, the space was empty. Unable to keep quiet a second longer, Evie turned to face the coldhearted man glaring back at her.

“Why am I here?”

He took a menacing step toward her as spit flew from between his yellow, crooked teeth. “Because you are a liar,” he spat angrily.

Her stomach dropped, and her mind raced, despite already knowing she’d done no such thing. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t lied about anything! Y-you know my name, where I’m from…I gave you my father’s information and told you how to contact him for the ranso?—”

The man’s meaty fist slammed into the side of her face. The unexpected blow sent Evie’s entire body flying backward. Pain exploded, and tears immediately filled her eyes as she landed on the dirt floor with a loud thud.

A metallic taste crossed over her tastebuds, and it took her a moment to realize the warm, wet liquid dripping from her nose and one corner of her mouth was blood. Bringing a trembling hand to her throbbing face, Evie used her palm to carefully wipe it away.

“The number you gave to us was a fake.” The asshole squatted down beside her.

“W-what num… ah! ”

A flash of pain ignited along her scalp as the man filled his fist with her hair. Giving the thick strands a hard pull, the bastard yanked her head back, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“The phone number,” he growled. The hold he had on her left no escape from his hot, rancid breath. “We called. The man who answered said he had no children.”

What?

Evie’s stomach churned with dread. No. That couldn’t be right. Sure, her father had made it clear she’d disappointed him with her life choices, but he’d never go so far as to denounce her to the point of allowing her to be killed.

Would he?

“There’s been a terrible…m-mistake.” She cried out again when the pressure at the back of her head increased. “I swear! I don’t know what happened. Maybe…m-maybe the person dialed the wrong…number.”

“ I am the one who made the call.” His grip tightened. “I dialed the numbers I was given.”

A small whimper escaped the base of Evie’s throat, but she refrained from moving even an inch for fear the jerk would actually pull her hair from its roots. The man shoved a scrap of paper in her face. “You wrote this yourself, no?”

Through her tears, she studied the inked digits scribbled across the paper’s white surface. The handwriting was a bit off, but that wasn’t surprising given how utterly terrified she’d felt while being forced to write it.

“Th-that’s the right number,” she confirmed softly. “I…I didn’t lie. My father…he has more than enough money to cover the ransom. For me and the girls.”

She’d added that last part because there was no way she’d ever consider leaving her young students behind with these monsters.

“The man who answered said?—”

“Maybe he thought it was a scam,” Evie blurted. It was the only thing that made sense. “I get calls like that all the time, you know? Every day, in fact. People claiming to be one thing, when really they’re just trying to scam me out of my money. Please,” she begged, her lip starting to swell. “Please, just try the number again.”

“It is a waste of my time.”

“No!” She started to shake her head, but the fire in her scalp forced her to stop. “Please. Just…let me talk to him. If he hears my voice, he’ll know this is for real, and you’ll get your money.”

Considering this, her captor released her hair with a rough shove before grabbing Evie’s upper arm and forcing her back to her feet as he stood. Without a word, he reached behind his back, and for a brief but terrifying moment, she was sure he was about to shoot her.

Instead, the coldhearted terrorist revealed a satellite phone he’d apparently had clipped to his belt. The jerk shoved it toward her.

“Call your father,” he ordered brusquely. “The cost of your freedom is ten million U.S. dollars. Two million for each.”

For a man like her father, that amount was a drop in the bucket.

“Ten million.” Evie took the phone with a jerky nod. “Got it.”

Ignoring the trembling in her hands, she studied the keypad. “Do I just dial like normal, or…”

The man nodded but said nothing.

Okay, then.

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat as she began to dial. Very few people were privy to her father’s personal cell number. Evie, her father’s business partner, and the family attorney.

Given her father’s social status and the numerous business-related calls he received throughout the day, she couldn’t blame the man for needing control over at least one aspect of his personal life.

Evie prayed with all she had that her father would answer the call. Then, she started to put the device to her ear.

“Window.” The man gestured to the opening in the room’s outer wall before pulling her in that direction. “No signal. Must talk near window.” Positioned next to the open hole in the wall, he gave her another order.

“Speaker.”

The simple demand was understood, and after pressing the button to do as he’d asked, she held the phone between them so he could hear. Evie’s nerve endings fired on all cylinders as she waited for the ringing to begin. When it did, she held her breath and prayed.

Please let him pick up.

Several rings passed before the call was answered. The voice on the other line was the very one she’d been so desperate to hear.

“I don’t know who this is or how you got this number, but?—”

“Dad, it’s me,” she cut him off, reverting back to what she’d called him as a young child. “I-It’s Evie.” When she was met with nothing but silence, she feared the phone’s signal was still too weak. Tilting the thick antenna to face the night sky, she added, “I-I’ve been k-kidnapped.”

The stark silence that followed did little to ease her nerves. Knowing this was most likely her only shot at survival, Evie continued speaking.

“These men are holding me and my students hostage,” she explained. “Four innocent, precious little girls who desperately want to get home to their families. These men…they’re demanding you pay two million dollars for each of us. They said they’ll release us as soon as they have the money.”

The man presented her with another scrap of paper. This one with more digits.

“Bank account,” he explained what he wanted in broken English. “Transfer.”

“He just gave me the account information,” Evie told her father. “Do you have something to write on, or?—”

“There’s no need,” her father finally spoke up again.

When he didn’t add anything further, Evie asked, “Are you sure? There are a lot of numbers, so it might be hard to remember them all.”

She certainly couldn’t memorize a set of numbers that long. Not without some practice, anyway.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand.” Her father’s tone sounded almost rigid. “There is no need for me to write anything down because there will be no transfer of funds to that or any other account.”

Her stomach dropped, and her eyes flew to her captor’s hardened gaze.

“This is for real, okay?” She tried desperately to get through to him. “These guys…they aren’t playing around. Please, you have to transfer the money,” she begged. “It’s the only way they’ll let me and the girls go free.”

It’s the only way they’ll let us live.

“As I told the man who called before, I have no daughter. Please don’t call this number again.”

The line went dead, and Evie was left standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

A rush of tears formed as real panic began to set in. Her father—the one man on the planet who should have been willing to lay down his own life for hers—had just severed the only lifeline she had left.

Oh, God!

She bent over at the waist, her hands slapping against her knees for support as Evie fought the urge to vomit. She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she freaking breathe?

Because your very own father is willingly going to let these monsters kill you.

The voice filling her head was right. There was no way out of this. Not for her or the girls.

Evie had told her father about the men who’d taken her captive. That she and the girls would die if he didn’t pay their ransom. And rather than having done everything in his power to ensure their safe return, what had he done?

He hung up on me.

A fresh onslaught of tears filled Evie’s frantic gaze, but she ignored them as they poured down over her dirty cheeks. Disbelief unlike any she’d ever known threatened to crush her very soul. What the hell was going on? Did he want her to die at the hands of these terrorist extremists?

You do this, consider yourself out.

Her father’s ominous words from their last day together returned with a vengeance. At the time, she’d been saddened and deeply hurt that he’d even speak of disowning her the way he had.

Evie had convinced herself he hadn’t meant them. Now, however…after hearing the callous man act as if she didn’t even exist in his world…

It was almost enough to break her.

And from the look on her captor’s face as she handed him back the phone, Evie knew her father—her very own flesh and blood—had just sentenced her to die.