“Maybe CIA agents like to party hard.”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. The only thing I’m sure of is that this is much bigger than what’s happened to Genesis, Ryan, and me.

11 HOURS EARLIER

GENESIS

“He hasn’t called.” My foot won’t stop bouncing. I grab Indiana’s wrist and glance at his watch. “It’s been three hours. He’s not going to call.” I’m not sure what I want my father to say, but I’m sure I want to hear from him.

Indiana scoots closer on the log and takes my hand. “He’s going to call.”

On the other side of our fire pit Penelope is running her fingers through Holden’s blond waves while he naps with his head in her lap. Domenica and Rog are immersed in a game of chess on a set that’s missing two pawns.

They have no idea what Silvana told my father. Or that the call I’m waiting on could get them killed.

Across the clearing, Óscar starts passing out soup cans and MREs to our captors for dinner.

I’m so tired. I want to lean on Indiana’s shoulder, but I can’t afford to look vulnerable. “I shouldn’t have told him I’d kill myself. Now he thinks he’ll lose me no matter what he does.”

Indiana lets go of my hand and slides his arm around my waist. “There’s no way your dad believes you’ll really do it,” he says into my hair.

“He does,” I insist. “A Valencia never bluffs.”

Indiana leans back and studies my eyes. “That’s not true. I lost two sticks of gum and my last clean shirt playing poker with you this afternoon.”

“Poker doesn’t count.” But I’m smiling now, and that seems to make him happy.

“Aren’t they going to give us anything to eat?” Penelope asks.

I turn to see that Óscar is eating his dinner. The hostages were not served.

“Genesis,” Sebastián calls from across his fire pit, and I tense at the sound of my own name. “Ven acá.”

I stand, and Indiana stands with me, so close I can’t see anyone else. “You don’t have to go. You could just stay here.” He slides one hand into my hair and his lips brush my cheek. “With me.”

I want to kiss him, and I don’t care who’s watching. But Sebastián was right—he’s calling plenty of shots. “I’ll be right back.” I can feel everyone watching as I cross the base camp. Domenica and Penelope look curious, but Holden’s glare feels like a knife in my back.

Sebastián and his men sit on logs and handmade stools, but he gestures for me to sit on the mat at his feet. “Are you hungry?” he asks as he scoops up a bite of canned ravioli.

Lunch was six hours ago, so of course I’m starving. But I know better than to admit it.

“You can eat as soon as you get your dad to cooperate.” He takes a bite and speaks around it. “Time’s running out.”

“I’m not going to ask my dad to help you kill people. Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to make things better!”

“We are making things better. The world is no different than a gangrenous limb, Genesis. You have to cut out the rot to save healthy flesh.” Sebastián glances at Silvana. “She’s telling the truth. Your father is not the man you think he is.”

“He’s the rot,” the American to his left says.

“Shawn,” Sebastián snaps. But the American only shrugs.

“My dad never forced anyone to get high.” I’m clinging to that certainty because I don’t know how else to defend my father. I don’t even know if I should. “People make their own choices and pay for their own mistakes.”

Shawn looks disappointed. “The apple and the tree. She’s going to take root right under him.”

My face burns. “And where are you taking root?” I demand. “How is blowing people up any better than shipping cocaine?”

Fervor burns in Shawn’s eyes like some kind of mania. “The American sense of entitlement and ruthless capitalist agenda has preyed upon the disenfranchised—both here and in the States—for decades. We’re going to destroy our country’s symbols of greed and excess. We’re going to open peoples’ eyes!”

I turn away in disgust, but Sebastián grabs my arm.

“You don’t recognize the problem because it’s been staring at you en el espejo every day of your life. But just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. You reek of waste and destruction.”

I pull free, but he’s still talking. “You may not be hungry, but your friends are. None of you eat until you convince your dad to cooperate.”

“It’s seven hours until the deadline,” I remind him. “I think they’ll survive.”

“Make sure they know why they’re going hungry, princesa!” Silvana shouts as I return to the hostages’ fire pit.

“What does that mean?” Holden demands, but I march right past him. They’re not truly trying to starve us; they’re trying to manipulate me with social pressure. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” I sink onto the log next to Indiana again, and I can feel Holden glaring at me, but I block him out. “They’re not going to feed us until I talk my dad into cooperating,” I whisper.

“No one can blame you for that,” he insists. “Just tell them what’s going on. It’s not like anyone wants terrorists to set off bombs in the States.”

But it doesn’t seem fair to tell them that I’ve already chosen the lives of hundreds of strangers over theirs. Over all of ours.

“Holden doesn’t consider anyone else’s well-being his responsibility, and right now Penelope would follow him off a high dive into a pool full of venomous snakes if he so much as smiled at her.”

Indiana gives me a crooked smile. “So all we have to do is convince everyone that we’re actually on a hunger strike.”

“And that it was Holden’s idea,” I add with a laugh.

10.5 HOURS EARLIER

MADDIE

“One rifle and five shells won’t be much of a threat to a drug cartel, but in case you have to pick this up, you need to know how to use it. They’ll know right away if you don’t.”