her knuckles turned white. For a single, terrifying moment, her mind went

cal thing, a tidal wave of ice-col

the ball pit. The plastic balls shifted under her feet

y! C

ildren away from the crazy woman who was t

sn't

around wildly. She grabbed the arm

ling out in a frantic rush. "A little boy, gr

ened eyes, shook her head, and pulled her

janitor, Stan Kowalski, who was emptying a trash can,

voice cracking. "My son.

annoyed. "Sorry, lady. Been listening

was to run to the mall's security office, to demand they check t

y camera, the moment she gave her name-even a fake one-an alert would be triggered somewhe

for help, and the terrifying knowledge that help was the

ng herself to breathe. Think. Don

if someone scared him, he wouldn't just wander off. He wo

e

ck her like a bo

n and clattered down the concrete stairs. The heel of her cheap boot caught on a step and snapped. Without brea

hick with the smell of exhaust fumes and rubber. The vast, dimly lit space was a concrete labyrinth,

antic rhythm of hope and terror. F-16. F-17. There.

were a wild animal that might bolt. Her e

oor wasn't fully closed.

tor, flashed with horrific images of kidnappers an

eached out a trembling han

ere, huddled on the back seat

ng miniature suit, now rumpled and dirty. He had his

ul, washed through her. It was Cody. Someone must have taken him, changed his clothes,

nto her arms. She buried her face in his hair, which smelled faintly of some u

g him back and forth. "I thoug

ming force of her relief blinded her to the subtle differences-the slight thinness of his frame,

adiating from his body. He was burning

placed by a new, sharper fe

et him out o