When Ezra called for a break, I nearly cheered. I leaned back against a corrugated metal wall, hoping to take some weight off of the heavy wads of pain my feet had become. The place smelled of stale urine and the river that ran just on the other side.

We'd spent a couple hours walking up and down poorly paved streets and barely paved back alleys. All we had really found was the local collection of homeless people and drug dealers. Ezra even seemed to know some of them. This didn't reassure me.

I decided to ask the obvious question, hoping I'd catch another lie. "Are you responsible for the girls going missing?"

Ezra had been staring off at nothing, taking deep breaths through his nose, and turning his head to face different directions. My question startled him and he turned to...

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