The door flings open with a bang and Misha rushes into the garage, with me following close behind. It’s dark in here, but with the light of Misha’s burner phone we look around the room. It’s still and quiet. There doesn’t seem to be a single person here. My heart is still racing, but I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to feel. It’s like I’ve jumped on a rollercoaster, only for it to make an abrupt halt before the first big drop.

“What the hell?” I mumble, glancing around the shadowy corners of the empty garage. “Did we get the house number wrong? This can’t be right, Misha.”

“No. This is the right house,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m certain of it.”

“Then what is going on? Where is my sister? Where’s Samantha?” I demand, starting to lose control. I thought we were so close. Everything has led us to this place, to this moment. I thought I was finally going to see my sister again.

“I don’t know,” he replies softly. “Something is very wrong here.”

“You think?” I retort tearfully. “Your contact screwed us over, Misha! They lied to us! Who is your contact anyway? Just another lackey for the mafia? We were so stupid to trust them. We can’t trust anyone.”

“Calm down. We’re going to find her,” Misha assures me, but it’s too late. I am falling into pure panic mode. I am exhausted and heartbroken and terrified. I don’t know what has happened to my sister, I’m no closer to solving this mystery surrounding us, and now it looks like we’ve been duped.

“I bet they did this just to fuck with us,” I mutter, swiping angrily at the tears burning in my eyes. “You might as well toss that burner phone off a cliff, because there is no one left in this world who can actually help us. Everybody has turned their backs on us. The mafia dropped you like a hot potato the second you became a liability. And whose fault is that? Mine! The police department has suspended me and won’t even help me save my sister. And whose fault is that? Mine again! I’ve messed things up beyond repair.”

“Nicole, stop. Beating yourself up is not going to help us get any closer to solving this,” Misha tells me. “You’ve got to hold yourself together. I will help you in any way I can. You may think everyone has turned their backs on you, but I won’t do that. I won’t abandon you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I murmur. Tears track down my cheeks as I shake my head. “We need to face it: we’re outmatched here. Outmatched and outnumbered. It’s like they’re all five steps ahead of us every time.”

“Then we will move faster. Think harder. We will race to catch up,” he offers, walking over to me and pulling me to his chest. “This isn’t over yet.”

“Then why does it feel like we’ve reached the end of the line?” I ask, burying my face in his chest. He strokes my hair gently.

“Because this is a lot to take in all at once. But you and I are made of tougher stuff than these assholes expect. You’re a vice cop in Las Vegas, for god’s sake. I bet you’re the only woman in your division, too.”

I nod faintly. “I am.”

“Exactly. And you know why? Because you’re tough as nails. And you’re smarter than any of them. They won’t help you? Screw them! You don’t need them, Nicole. You and I are going to find your sister and bring her home. We are going to make it,” Misha says firmly. “But you cannot give up on me yet.”

I take a deep breath and pull myself together, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “You’re right,” I admit. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually fall apart so easily. I just thought…”

“I know. You thought we’d find your sister here. But we’ve got to move on,” he says.

I look around the garage one last time, and my eyes fall on something I hadn’t noticed before: a rickety-looking chair in the corner of the room, with rope tied around it. I frown in confusion and walk toward it, pointing it out to Misha. “What’s this here?” I ask, glancing back at him over my shoulder. He shrugs.

“Just a chair.”

“No, but it’s got ropes around it. Like there used to be someone tied up here,” I comment.

“Well, there’s no one here now, Nicole. We need to get out of here,” he says.

“Just give me a second,” I put him off, bending down in front of the chair, blinking in the near-darkness. I can make out something small and black on the seat of the chair, and as I reach for it, the screen lights up. It’s a cell phone.

“What the hell?” Misha grunts, coming up beside me. I pick up the phone and let my eyes adjust to the brightness of the screen to read the word there. It’s a name.

Samantha.

“Don’t answer that,” Misha warns, but before I can think twice, I slide the screen open to answer the call, pressing the phone to my ear with a shaky hand.

“H-Hello?” I whisper, scarcely able to breathe.

“Oh, it’s all dark there! I can hardly see you!” giggles a lighthearted voice I would recognize anywhere, anytime. I hold the phone back to see that it’s a Facetime call.

And my sister’s smiling face is on the screen.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, weirdo?” she laughs. She’s got her hair pulled back into a short ponytail, sunglasses on her head. Her face looks freckly and tanned, and she’s grinning. There’s patches of blue sky visible behind her, and the faint crash of waves on a shore.

“Sam?” I ask, shocked.

“Yeah, dummy! Of course it’s me. Man, did I wake you up from a nap or something? You’re acting weird. And why the heck didn’t you tell me you got a new phone number! I’ve been trying to call you all day. Ilya — oh, that’s my boyfriend — he said we should try to call you today and just fill you in on what’s going on, but you wouldn’t pick up!” she rambles brightly. She lifts a fruity drink to her lips and sips it through a straw.

“New number…” I murmur, confused. “Sam, what are you talking about? And where are you? Are you at the beach? The police think you’re missing!”

“Missing? Oh, because I skipped some classes?” she says, rolling her eyes. “You know what, Ilya surprised me with a trip to Hawaii and I just couldn’t say no. I mean, yeah, I might have to make up some exams when I get home, but how could I turn down a free trip to Hawaii? I’m sorry, I tried to call you, but for some reason it wouldn’t go through. And then Ilya told me he has a friend over there in Vegas who knows you and that friend said you got a new phone or whatever, so I’ve been calling—”

“A friend? Who? What’s the friend’s name?” I demand. Sam looks taken aback by my demanding tone.

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, sis. It’s fine! I’m fine! I’m having an amazing time here. I would’ve told you about it beforehand but you changed your number,” she laughs, clearly tipsy, and clearly not kidnapped.

I open my mouth to try and ask more questions, but honestly, right now it doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is that she’s safe and happy, and she obviously is. The rest I can figure out later. Besides, the last thing I need is to further involve Sam in whatever bullshit I’ve fallen into.

“Hey, Nicki, I got to go. We have an early morning surf lesson starting in, like, five minutes!”

“Okay. Yes. You’re right,” I tell her with a smile. “I’ll, uh, keep my new phone close by. Call me again later, okay?”

“Okey dokey. I love you, sis!” she exclaims.

“Love you, too,” I tell her softly. She ends the call, leaving Misha and I in the dark.

I turn to him with an even more confused look. “What is going on here?” I ask.

This time, even he looks stumped. “Nicole, I have no idea. But we need to get out of this place before someone else comes along and—”

The door bangs open, morning light pouring into the garage. As I blink in the light, it becomes apparent that we are staring down the barrels of multiple guns. We both put our hands up and before we can say or do anything, three huge guys rush into the garage and pin our hands behind our backs. My heart races wildly as I realize our mistake.

We have walked right into a trap.

“No!” I call out, watching the men drag Misha away from me. At first, I think they’re just capturing him— after all, what importance am I to them? But then they take me, too. Pulling us out into the early dawn. Misha is silent and stoic while I kick and scream. But then someone claps a wet cloth to my face, my airways fill up with something vaguely sweet, and everything goes black.

* * *

When I come to, I realize that I can’t see. My whole body is aching, my brain fuzzy. I’m being carried somewhere, and it’s hot. Blazingly hot. Slowly, the events of earlier come flooding back to me, but I’m so weak and scared I don’t know what to do. There’s something slung over my head, obscuring my vision. It feels like burlap. I can feel the sliding footsteps of the man carrying me, and it occurs to me that he’s walking over sand.

We’re in the desert.

I wonder if Misha is still nearby, or if we’ve been separated. Then, just as I’m about to start screaming, the man carrying me calls out, “She’s waking up, I can feel it!”

Another man calls back, “Doesn’t matter. Graves are dug. This guy works fast. It’s almost a shame to lose him.”

“Almost,” adds another. There’s cruel, raucous laughter.

“Put me down!” I shriek, which only brings more laughing. The man holding me heaves me down onto the ground and whips the sack off of my head. I squint in the bright desert sunlight, looking around wildly.

I see Misha, several yards away, sweating and covered in sand and dust. He’s standing in a shallow grave, a spade in his hands. He locks eyes with me, a meaningful look in his steely blue gaze.

“Misha!” I cry out, fumbling to get up and run to him, but the man standing over me pushes me back down.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be together again soon,” the man says mockingly.

“Hell will be happy to meet you two,” jokes another man. Again, with the horrible laughter. I can feel rage and fear rising up in equal measure in my chest. We fell right into their trap. My sister was just the bait. All along, I was chasing someone who didn’t need to be chased. My brain is too muddled to put it all together just yet, but I know we’ve been had.

“Who wants to do the honors?” asks the man standing back from the rest.

“I’ll do it,” grunts the man standing closest to Misha. He pulls out a gun and aims it directly at Misha, who doesn’t even flinch. “I’ve been dying to do this since the first day you showed up here. Thought you’d just slip right in and take over my turf, huh?”

Misha doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

The man is getting angrier by the second, annoyed that Misha isn’t showing any fear.

“Answer me. Hey. Ublyudok! Look at me!” yells the man, brandishing his gun.

Tears sting in my eyes, my heart pounding so fast I feel dizzy.

Misha just gives me the smallest, faintest hint of a smile.