Catia Vanden Haag was not concerned; just put off. Her only child, Annika, was away on holiday, and she'd heard from her just once since Catia and her husband returned home to the Netherlands after attending Annika's graduation ceremonies at Yale University. It was by postcard on her arrival in London to join her boyfriend, Peter, for the start of their six-week backpacking adventure through Italy and Greece – 'Having a great time, glad you're not here.' Catia knew her daughter well enough to know her note explained everything – she was too busy doing God knows what with her boyfriend to think of her poor mother.

A tendency to focus with single-minded determination on the matter at hand to the exclusion of everything else was a trait Annika inherited from her Dutch diplomat father. Catia smiled as she thought of a trait or two she'd passed on: the Greek passion for doing God knows what – and the physical stamina to recover afterward. Catia well remembered her own days of flitting through summers with boys in her native Greece. She was not worried one bit about Annika. Sooner or later she'd get a call.

It came that afternoon, but not from Annika.

Peter's father was calling to apologize.

'For what?' Catia had no idea what he was talking about.

'Peter told me what happened.'

Catia felt the anxiety before knowing why. 'Richard, what are you saying?'

'I just spoke to him in London and-'

It was so unlike her to interrupt. 'In London? But they're in Italy… or Greece… or…' She realized she had no idea where they were.