LITMIR.BIZ

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of victory, she finally held up the keys.

      Evelyn followed her roommate into their apartment and flipped on the light. She dropped her bag onto the antique table in the foyer and glanced at the answering machine. No messages. Just as well. She was exhausted. All she wanted was her warm, soft bed. And maybe some hot mint tea. Maybe.

      “I have to admit, I’m jealous.” Anastasia reappeared from her closet-sized room. She’d shed the black leggings and massive sweatshirt. A short red skirt hugged her curves and a low-cut sheer tank played peek-a-boo in the dim light with her red sequined bra. Fastening a large silver hoop through one ear, she looked at Evelyn in the mirror. “And I’ve never been jealous of anyone. Ever.”

      “You have nothing to be jealous of.” Evelyn opened her bag, grabbed an elastic and pulled her hair back into a sloppy bun that slanted to one side. “I’m not Raphael’s type.”

      Anastasia swung around. Hope, and the tiniest bit of suspicion, flashed in her eyes as she fastened the second hoop. “Really?”

      “Really.” Moving to their petite kitchen, Evelyn spoke over her shoulder. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that blonde, brown-eyed beauties are more to his liking.”

      Tea could wait. She opened the refrigerator door and took a bottle of water from the top shelf. The rest of the shelves sat bare. Tomorrow she’d have to go to the market.

      “Us blue-eyed girls?” Evelyn pointed to herself, feigning complete and utter disappointment. “We don’t stand a chance.”

      “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” Anastasia bounced on her toes, then rushed over and kissed Evelyn on the cheek. She stole the water from Evelyn’s hand, twisted the top and tilted her head back to take a sip. Holding the bottle out to her roommate, she smirked. “Because guess who’s going to be at SilverTongue Club tonight?”

      Evelyn took the bottle back and suppressed a smile. “Raphael?”

      “Yes.” Glittering dots danced in time to Anastasia’s animated movements as the red sequins made a soft rattling noise. “And guess who else is going tonight?”

      “You?”

      “Us.” She clapped her hands, as thrilled as a child on Christmas morning.

      Evelyn’s grin vanished as she slid toward the kitchen doorway, inching away from her wild, party-crazed roommate and toward the sanctuary of her small room.

      “You.” She leveled the bottle at Anastasia and moved three steps closer to her escape. “There is no us in this equation tonight.”

      Anastasia’s lower lip jutted out, making her appear even more like a Russian goddess. She followed Evelyn down the miniature hallway. “Please?”

      Evelyn laughed and walked into her room. “No.”

      “Fine.” Anastasia pouted. “But I’m not taking no for an answer next time.”

      “Deal.” Evelyn smiled at her new friend. It was hard to believe they’d only met six weeks ago. She’d gotten lucky with the roommate her agency paired her with—not all the girls could say the same. She placed her hands on Anastasia’s bare shoulders and steered her to the front door. “Now, go have fun. But be safe, okay?”

      Anastasia reached for her bag on the floor and slung it over her shoulder as she pulled open the door. She looked back at Evelyn and grinned. “Don’t wait up for me.”

      With Anastasia gone, silence blanketed the apartment. Evelyn grabbed her bag off the table and padded to her room. While she loved the lights and the runway, she was a bookworm at heart and had her eye on the latest biography her folks had sent. Evelyn hooked her foot around the bedroom door, tugged it shut and turned the lock with the other. A thin overnight package marked Fragile sat on her desk. She glanced at the return address and smiled.

      It was from her family.

      She opened the package. A DVD fell from the box. Evelyn squatted in front of the TV, slid the silver disc into the machine and pressed Play.

      Black-and-white snow fuzzed the screen at first and then faded to a dark, unfocused image. She sat on her bed. Slowly, the picture corrected itself and the color returned. Frozen, she gawked at the small screen, not comprehending what it showed. Horror crept into her stomach as her eyes and brain connected the images to reality.

      Her mother and sister sat huddled, ankles and wrists bound. Sweat and blood marred their beautiful faces. Olivia hid hers in her mother’s side. Tears streamed down her mother’s cheeks, and pain radiated from her as she stared straight ahead, unmoving.

      Why was she not comforting Olivia? Why was her mother crying? What was happening? Where was her father?

      A tiny movement at the bottom left corner of the screen caught her attention. It was her father, bloodied and beaten. Arms and feet shackled, pulled tight behind him in an awkward, bowed position. Evelyn squeezed her eyes tight, trying to dislodge the foreign image of her father.

      He murmured. Evelyn opened her eyes. She strained to hear, but couldn’t make out what he said. In a trancelike state, and without glancing away from the screen, she reached for the remote and pressed the volume button. Her father spoke again and bucked against his restraints.

      “It’s going to be okay.” Slurred words fell from swollen lips. His mangled face was almost unrecognizable. “It’s going to be okay. I swear. It’s going to be okay.”

      Evelyn’s throat tightened. Her mother’s chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. Soft sobs broke from her bleeding mouth.

      “No, it won’t. He took my baby....”

      Evelyn’s eyes snapped back to Olivia. A deep red slash spread from ear to ear. Evelyn’s stomach heaved, threatening to empty itself as the shadow of a person stepped into the edge of the screen.

      “What do you want with us? We haven’t done anything to you.” Her father’s panicked voice broke as the figure kicked him in the face.

      Evelyn’s hand flew to her mouth. She swallowed a scream. Her mother whimpered softly. Her father moaned, writhing in agony. Then her mom’s blue eyes grew wide as their captor—careful to stay to the perimeter of the video—walked toward her.

      “Please,” her father screamed. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Don’t hurt her. Please. I swear. Tell me what you want.”

      The figure ignored him and raised his arm. Evelyn saw the gun at the same time her father did. Her mother shut her eyes and bowed her head.

      Bullets ripped into her broken body.

      “No!” Evelyn’s father cried out.

      The shadowed figure took three quick, long strides toward her weeping father. He knelt at his side and yanked hard on her father’s hair, exposing his neck.

      “Why?”

      Without answering, the shadow pulled a knife. Her father’s neck ripped open.

      Evelyn turned and vomited onto the floor. When the convulsions stopped, she wiped the back of her hand shakily across her mouth. She lunged for her desk and rummaged through the mess.

      “Where is it?” She cursed aloud, frantic for the lifeline to her family. Her father insisted that she have a calling card at all times.

      Her dad. She whimpered.

      “Daddy...”

      Grabbing her black wallet from her bag, Evelyn tore through its contents. Her fingers landed on the worn calling card. She snatched up her phone, breath coming in shallow gulps. She punched her father’s cell phone number into the lit keypad, its soft green illuminated lights taunting her.

      She commanded herself to calm down. She didn’t know anything yet. The DVD could’ve been a prank. It could be...has to be.

      She concentrated on the shrill ringing

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