The sound was not loud. It was not the dramatic, attention-seeking wail of a child who had scraped a knee in a playground.

A woman stepped around the corner of the brick building.

She looked as if she had walked off the pages of a high-fashion magazine, completely out of place in the grimy, oil-stained back alley. She wore a long, camel-hair coat with a pristine white fur collar, dark sunglasses despite the overcast sky, and high-heeled boots that clicked sharply against the pavement.

Her name was Victoria Vance-Romano.

Victoria held a thin gold smartphone to her ear, her voice sharp, melodic, and entirely devoid of warmth.

"Yes, Charles, I'm just leaving the restaurant now," Victoria said into the phone, her tone dripping with rehearsed exasperation. "No, the boy is still having one of his impossible tantrums. He ran off into the alley again. I'm looking for him right now... Honestly, Charles, his behavior is becoming unmanageable. I don't know how much longer I can handle his sudden disappearances. It’s so stressful for my nerves."

She rounded the corner near the dumpster and stopped dead in her tracks.

Through her dark sunglasses, her eyes locked onto Maya, who was still kneeling beside Leo.

Victoria’s posture instantly stiffened. Her eyes darted from Maya’s cheap lavender jacket to the silver pocket watch sitting in Leo’s small hands. A flash of pure, venomous malice crossed her face before she quickly smoothed her expression into one of maternal concern.

"Leo!" Victoria gasped loudly, pulling the phone away from her ear but keeping the line open. "Oh, my darling boy! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Why did you run away from the car?!"

She rushed forward, her heels clicking loudly. She reached down and grabbed Leo sharply by the arm, yanked him to his feet so hard his small body stumbled, and snatched the silver pocket watch out of his hands, shoving it deep into her coat pocket.

Leo didn't make a sound, but his small face went completely pale. He looked at Maya with eyes full of absolute, suffocating terror.

"Hey!" Maya shouted, standing up quickly and stepping between Victoria and the boy. "Don't pull him like that! He's hurt!"

Victoria halted, looking down at Maya as if she had just stepped in something filthy. "Get away from him, you dirty little street rat," she hissed under her breath, her voice low enough so the phone wouldn't pick it up.

"He didn't run away!" Maya said loudly, her voice ringing clear in the alley. "You put him here! He told me! He was crying!"

Victoria’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near her ear. She brought the phone back to her face, her voice instantly transforming into a sweet, tearful whimper.

"Charles? Did you hear that?" Victoria sobbed softly into the receiver. "Some local street child is harassing us... Leo ran into this terrible alley and met these awful beggars... Please, send security to the car immediately!"

She pulled Leo by the wrist, dragging him toward the mouth of the alley. Leo twisted his head around, his eyes locked on Maya. His small, free hand moved frantically behind his back, hidden from Victoria's view.

He tapped his thumb against his chest, then pointed at Maya, tapping his index finger to his thumb rapidly.

Help me, he signed. Help.

Maya’s heart pounded against her ribs like a sledgehammer. She couldn't stop Victoria. She was six years old, small, malnourished, and powerless.

She watched helplessly as Victoria forced Leo into the back seat of a sleek, black Maybach parked at the curb. The tinted window rolled down just an inch. Before the car sped away into the thick Chicago traffic, Maya caught a glimpse of the man sitting in the front passenger seat.

He had a sharp, striking jawline, dark hair silvering at the temples, and eyes that looked like cold steel. He was staring at a tablet, completely oblivious to the small boy crying silently in the back seat.