"Mia!!!"
"MIAAAA!!!!"
I—Elena Martinez—called out at the top of my lungs. My little girl was missing.
Breathe!!! Breathe!!!
My chest felt tight as I ran through the park searching for her or searching for sothing that might help locate her.
I turned left, right, up, down, and back around again. She wasn’t there.
The sun was still high overhead, but already the temperature had risen enough that I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
t the ti to start having hot flashes.
Sweat trickled down every inch of . It wasn’t just the heat; it was the panic I couldn’t seem to get over. Every second felt like an eternity. And all because of what happened fifteen minutes ago.
If sothing happened to her...
My daughter, Mia. My only child.
Not even a minute after we’d entered the park, she decided it was more fun to run than walk. I let her go and took a quick break by completing so of my piled-up tasks at work since I knew she wouldn’t stray far and that she was always within earshot.
At least, that’s what I thought until she took off running toward the big oak tree instead of going straight for the slide.
I chased after her, then stopped to catch my breath while leaning against one of its thick branches.
She wasn’t under the tree anymore. Nor did I see her anywhere.
How fast could a toddler really move? As quickly as the wind, that’s how.
What if soone abducted her?
Panic shot through my body, and my hands shook so much I couldn’t hold the cara I had intended to use for our vacation photos. What I needed were so digital images to send to my friends and family in New York to show them what we’d been up to.
I grabbed onto the cloth of so random stranger’s shirt, breathing heavily.
He glanced at , probably wondering why I was clinging to his clothes. He didn’t look happy about it either.
Did he think I was looking for a place to hide from the heat? Or maybe I was hoping to borrow so fresh water.
"Please, have you seen a little girl, blonde hair, blue eyes?"
He was a young man in his mid-twenties. If he thought I was panhandling him, he sure didn’t show it. Instead, he said, "No, sorry," and kept walking.
It seed like everyone in the park was in such a hurry today, including . Why hadn’t I noticed earlier that the place looked nothing like the one where we’d spent Mother’s Day and Father’s Day? Now it was overrun with people of all ages and races.
I went over to another person passing by wearing a similar garb and asked politely whether they too saw any small child with Mia’s descriptions nearby.
The woman gave no indication that she cared less about helping . In fact, judging by the sneer plastered across her face, it appeared as though she resented being bothered.
I recoiled inside before turning away without saying anything else. Wasn’t anyone willing to help a foreigner? The world suddenly beca very cold to .
Cold and lonely.
Mia shouldn’t be alone. Not ever again. Ever. Especially now, especially here, in the heart of Italy, the ho base of the feared organized cri families: Romano, Gotti, and Gambino. Families whose nas are synonymous with violence and bloodshed.
This isn’t a country known for peace or tolerance, yet sohow I had managed to convince myself otherwise during those long weeks leading up to this mont. Because there’s nothing quite like ignorance to breed hope.
"Please, soone, please, I’m just trying to find my daughter!" Panic rushed into my voice along with tears streaming down both cheeks.
"Pl–"
I broke down sobbing. And not because of fear but rather disappointnt. How dare fate toy around with us only to snatch away sothing precious right when I started getting comfortable enough to believe things might turn out okay here...
*****
After what felt like an eternity, I wiped my face dry with shaking fingers, forcing myself to take deep breaths and calm down.
A clear head, Elena! That’s what you need to properly search for your child.
I made a fist and nodded to my inner thoughts. A better plan already ford itself in seconds flat.
The rry-go-round!!!
She must have gone straight for it, probably thinking of this as so form of playing tag with . She had ntioned she loved the rry-go-round advertised outside every stall so much, asking if we could visit them soday. It took everything within to keep smiling even after I realized our outing wouldn’t end how I planned.
What did I expect really anyway?! Did I seriously imagine finding her sitting atop a horse, waiting patiently while watching chase behind?
But still ... Still, I couldn’t stop crying. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were ant to play happily side by side until dark. Then maybe watch the sunset from afar; eat ice cream cones dipped in chocolate sauce.
At least then I hoped to see her smile and hear her laughter. Maybe even sing softly next to each other once darkness fell. Sothing sweetly familiar between mother and daughter should always remain forever etched into mory. Like it used to be back ho. Only this ti I wanted more than mories.
My legs practically flew faster than lightning toward the brightly colored wheel spinning above ground level. It took everything within to stop running once reaching its base point.
My lungs heaved and sweat poured down every inch of skin exposed to air. Still gasping for breath, I stared wide-eyed at the circle of bright red tal rotating slowly overhead while below, several riders circled lazily, enjoying each other’s company. Children laughed and shouted gleefully; couples kissed passionately and parents watched on happily.
In contrast, my chest tightened so hard from anxiety I could barely breathe. My hands shook violently, threatening to drop my cara bag if forced to hold onto it much longer.
Even the steady, rhythmical sound of wheels whirling wasn’t able to block out the panicked pounding of my own pulse racing through veins.
For two hours now, I’ve been searching for Mia after she wandered off due to my carelessness. What should normally take a few hours of fun turned into half a day filled with worry.
Today more than usual, I missed having Christopher—my ex husband—next to instead of chasing down Mia solo.
She should be here sowhere. She has to be here.
That’s when I saw him.
A tall man in dark clothes, a hat pulled low. He sat by himself near the rry-go-round, his legs crossed and hands folded on his lap. If not for the leather gloves covering his fingers, I might have thought him one of the regulars. Only he wasn’t there to play. His dark expression didn’t show a single shred of happiness or joy as he stared straight ahead.
Stared straight ahead at a little girl, my daughter, Mia.
What the hell was going on?!
"MIA!!" I yelled louder this ti, but for so odd reason, she didn’t seem to notice anything around her except the man staring at her directly without blinking.
The man continued to stare at Mia. For once he looked every bit as lost and confused as I felt.
"Uncle Leo!" Mia called happily.
My head whipped back in the direction of who she referred to.
Leo... Leo... Leo...
Where have I heard that na?
But on a closer look, that black hair, those blue eyes, that signature posture, gloves, and poise all belonged to none other than the infamous Leonardo ’Leo’ Romano.
No hat could hide that.
Was he the one who found her wandering alone earlier today? No, the bigger question is—why the hell is he at a park?!
He focused slowly on Mia, his face brightening up with a little smile. "Hello, little one," he said in a quiet voice ant only for her ears. "Did you enjoy your ride?"
Her eyes lit up like candles burning brighter and wider. She nodded vigorously before saying sothing too fast for words.
Instead she pointed excitedly over her shoulder, which made no sense until we followed her gaze all the way across the large open space where another group played gas and spun plates on sticks suspended high overhead.
There were n everywhere dancing wildly and laughing hysterically, holding what appeared to look like long, thin rods covered in colorful cloth strips. They also wore hats similar to those worn during the Mardi Gras parades held locally whenever the weather allowed.
"I see they’re playing stickball again tonight," Leo muttered with a chuckle.
He’s laughing? What the hell is going on? Is my daughter so sort of codian to make this person chuckle?
"Yessss! You watch them?!" Mia asked eagerly while pointing toward the small crowd gathered around the ga being set up
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