He wrapped his arm around the neck of the first guard, pulling him back into the darkness.

There was a brief struggle, a soft thud, and then silence.

The second guard did not notice immediately, his eyes still fixed on me.

“Where is James?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“Right here,” a voice whispered from behind the SUV.

James stepped out into the light of the spotlight.

He looked terrible.

His clothes were dirty, his face was bruised, and his hands were shaking violently.

He was holding a cheap silver handgun, pointing it loosely toward the ground.

“Sophia,” James said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I had to do it. They were going to kill me.”

“You sold our daughter, James,” I said.

“I didn’t sell her,” he stammered. “I just… I needed leverage. Moretti said he would wipe the debt.”

“She is a baby,” I said, my voice rising. “She is your daughter.”

The second guard finally turned around to look for his partner.

“Hey, where did Tony go?” the guard asked, reaching toward his waistband.