The phone rang just as Desi stepped out of the supermarket.
“Desi, Anna’s missing. She’s been taken!”
It was her mother, sobbing.
Desi froze, her breath catching in her throat.
“What? What do you mean, taken? Where is she?”
“She was at ballet class, and someone came to pick her up,” her mother said, her words coming in rapid, panicked bursts.
“He said he was her father. He had a picture of you with him, Desi. They believed him! Did you contact your father? I told you. I told you not to…”
“No, no, that can’t be,” Desi muttered, her mind racing. “He wouldn’t…”
Her heart pounded as her mother’s sobs echoed through the line.
“The police are on their way. I’m at the ballet studio now.”
“I’m coming,” Desi said, her voice shaky.
She ended the call, her hands trembling as she stuff
