New Orleans, Present Day

Let's do another shot!" The young woman strained her vocal cords to get above the music and noise in the nightclub. She and her friends had been there nearly four hours.

Outside, the streets were filled with the raucous noise of thousands of tourists and locals, all celebrating the year's most anticipated event. Mardi Gras. Everyone wore their beads and gaudy masks in celebration of the festival. It was almost midnight and the last of the partying was at hand.

"Come on, Anna," the girl pleaded to her companion. "Just one more! It's almost midnight. You know they're gonna kick us out at twelve."

"Are you crazy?" Anna protested. "My head is swimming. I'm looking forward to midnight."

"You're a prude! We travel all this way to come to Mardi Gras, and you wanna wuss out on me thirty minutes before it's all over? You're kidding me, right?"

"Look at that, Jane." Anna pointed to the middle of the room.

The rest of their friends were in the middle of the dance floor, bouncing up and down like they had pogo sticks for legs. "I'm sure they will all do another shot with you. I'm going to bed. We have a nine a.m. flight back to Nashville, and I don't intend to be throwing up on it!"

Jane chuckled at Anna's remark. She knew that Anna wasn't much of a drinker. It practically took her twisting Anna's arm just to get her to come down here in the first place. "Okay," she said, "but I'm not leaving yet. So you're gonna have to just sit here and wait on me."

"You know what? I think I'll just walk back," Anna said.

"No you will not! This is New Orleans, girl,—the French Quarter—not Nashville. Not to mention, the biggest freak fest in the whole world is going on outside those doors!"

"It's literally two blocks. There are cops every nine feet out there. I'm going to be on the main street. I'll be fine."

"More like seven blocks, and no you won't."

"I have my mace, my cell phone, and my police whistle. I'll be fine. I promise. I'll even let you know when I get there. Okay?"

Jane hesitated. She didn't like the thought of her friend out there alone, but she wasn't ready to leave yet. "All right. But when you get there, you text me."

"I will."

Anna Riley stood from her stool and hugged Jane. She grabbed her jacket from the seat and walked outside. The cool night air felt good at first, but after a few steps, she felt a slight shiver. At least her vision wasn't as blurry as it had been an hour ago. She had only had two margaritas, but being the lightweight drinker she was, they had exacted their revenge. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. Maybe that would clear away some of the cobwebs.

As she passed the bars and nightclubs one by one, she turned

her head and looked into the windows. She had heard as a little girl the outlandish things that went on down here during the festival. Seeing them for herself, she was both stunned and embarrassed as women passed her on the street exposing themselves to passersby. Men shouted obscenities at the women from the sidewalk. The women yelled back propositions.

Anna continued walking until, little by little, the noise became fainter and the people became fewer. She hadn't realized that she and her friends had come this far down Bourbon Street. The alcohol made her less aware of the time she had spent hopping from club to club as well as how far they had gone.

She finally made it to Canal Street where she turned to head to her hotel, the Fairmont. The streets were a little more deserted outside the French Quarter. As a matter of fact, there didn't seem to be much of anyone around. She picked up her pace. Suddenly, walking home by herself didn't seem like such a great idea. She reached into her pocket and felt for her can of mace. That eased her a little bit.

As she passed a dimly lit alleyway, she thought she heard a child crying. She stopped, listening. There it was again. It was definitely someone crying, although she wasn't sure now that it was a child.

"Hello?" Anna half whispered. "Is anyone there?" Nothing.

"Hello?" she said again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. The crying had stopped.

"Do you need help?" Anna now asked full voice. "I have a phone with me. I can call for help if you need it." She pulled her mace out of her pocket. Still nothing.

Anna waited for a few seconds. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe she should just quit drinking altogether.

She turned away from the alley, ready to run the rest of the way to her hotel. But standing in front of her was a little boy who looked to be about ten years old. She almost knocked him over.

"Holy freakin'—Good grief!" she screamed as she jumped back. "You scared the life outta me! What are you doing out here this late?"

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," the boy said. "I'm sorry. It's just ... well ... you scared me to death." "That wasn't my purpose."

"Well, you did."

"I'm sorry, Anna." He really did look sorry.

Anna couldn't stay angry at him. "Don't worry about—Hey! How do you know my name?"

He only lifted an eyebrow in a manner that seemed far too old for such a young boy. "I have a message for you."

A shiver ran down her neck. "From who? How do you know my name?"

"You need to go home."

"What? Who are you?"

"You need to go home." His expression looked compassionate, almost pitying.

Anna found it hard to breathe. She didn't want to show she was frightened of this strange little boy. Anger seemed safer. "I am going home. Tomorrow. What is it any concern of yours?" She meant to take a step toward him, but her feet moved backward instead. "How do you know my name?"

"You need not fear me."

"What? Who talks like that?" she asked. "Especially some little street punk! I asked you a question. Who are you and how do you know who I am?"

"Anna, listen to me. I am a friend. It doesn't matter how I know you. All you need to know is that you need to go home. Right now. This instant. Get into a cab and go to the airport. Take the late flight out to Pittsburgh and go home."

"Hah! I'm from Nashville, you little twerp! You aren't as smart as you think, huh?"

"No, I do not mean where you grew up with your parents. I mean where you are from. Pittsburgh. That is where you were born."

Anna's mouth dropped. No one knew that. She'd never told anyone. She and her parents had moved to Nashville when she was six, after her grandparents had died tragically. Her father couldn't handle the grief. Or at least that's what her mother had told her.

Anna had never really known her grandparents. They were always gone. Constantly traveling. The last time she remembered seeing her grandfather was in a church. She could barely remember. She had been kneeling down in front of the altar. The church was empty except for her, her grandfather, and the pastor. She remembered a prayer being said over her. And that was it.

"Pittsburgh?" she finally responded. "My grandparents were from Pittsburgh."

"Yes, and so are you."

"You obviously have me confused with someone else."

"I don't think so," the boy said. "You are Anna Riley. Daughter of James and Elizabeth Riley. Granddaughter of Thomas and Olivia Riley."

"Okay! That's enough!" She shifted her purse higher on her shoulder and took another step away. "Who put you up to this? Jane? Alex?...