But as I reached the bridge over the frozen Chicago River, the dashboard screen flashed.

An incoming call from an unknown number.

I pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer.

A voice I did not recognize spoke through the speakers, low and gravelly.

“Elena,” the man said.

“Your friend Sophia is waiting for you at the office.”

“But I think you should join us instead.”

“Who is this?” I asked, my grip tightening on the wheel.

“Who is this?” I asked, my grip tightening on the wheel.

“This is Vance,” the voice said.

“Your husband’s friends in Detroit send their regards.”

My breath hitched.

The heat in the SUV was blasting, but my hands were freezing.

“I am on my way,” I said.

“Good,” Vance said. “Don’t keep us waiting. Sophia is getting very nervous.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the black dashboard screen.

I put the SUV in gear and drove off the bridge, the tires slipping slightly on the wet metal grating.

The snow was coming down in thick, heavy sheets now.

It blurred the yellow streetlights of downtown Chicago into soft halos.