Ana walks into Central Park at exactly ten AM, carrying Hope in her arms. Her daughter wears a bright yellow dress that makes her easy to spot from a distance.

Diego walks beside them, pushing an empty stroller. His eyes scan the trees, benches, playgrounds. Looking for Vincent. Looking for government snipers.

"Beautiful morning," Ana says loudly, for the listening devices she knows are hidden in their clothes.

"Perfect day for the park," Diego agrees.

But Ana's heart pounds. Last night, ...