CHAPTER 120: STOP CRYING

"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 something that might help me 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.

Now was not the time to start having hot flashes.

Sweat trickled down every inch of me. 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 something 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 some 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 someone abducted her?

Panic shot through my body, and my hands shook so much I couldn’t hold the camera I had intended to use for our vacation photos. What I needed were some 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 some random stranger’s shirt, breathing heavily.

He glanced at me, 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 some 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 seemed like everyone in the park was in such a hurry today, including me. 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 me. 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 became very cold to me.

Cold and lonely.

Mia shouldn’t be alone. Not ever again. Ever. Especially now, especially here, in the heart of Italy, the home base of the feared organized crime families: Romano, Gotti, and Gambino. Families whose names are synonymous with violence and bloodshed.

This isn’t a country known for peace or tolerance, yet somehow I had managed to convince myself otherwise during those long weeks leading up to this moment. Because there’s nothing quite like ignorance to breed hope.

"Please, someone, 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 disappointment. How dare fate toy around with us only to snatch away something 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 formed itself in seconds flat.

The merry-go-round!!!

She must have gone straight for it, probably thinking of this as some form of playing tag with me. She had mentioned she loved the merry-go-round advertised outside every stall so much, asking if we could visit them someday. It took everything within me 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 me chase behind?

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 me instead of chasing down Mia solo.

She should be here somewhere. 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 merry-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.

But still ... Still, I couldn’t stop crying. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were meant to play happily side by side until dark. Then maybe watch the sunset from afar; eat ice cream cones dipped in chocolate sauce.