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She’d agonized over that text for days. She’d texted Luz the next day and the next, with no response. She’d even tried calling on the fourth day. Luz could be a sparse texter at times, but she knew better than to ignore her mother. Camila had known something was wrong, an anchor wrapped around her heart that only seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. So she’d called the camp, trying to reassure herself that Luz was okay, that maybe something had happened to her phone. The dawning horror that chilled Camila’s veins as she spoke to one of the counselors was almost enough to make her lose grip of her phone. Feeling almost sluggish in the face of the terrifying reality that she didn’t know where her daughter was, she had asked the man to repeat himself.“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no one by the name of Luz Noceda here.”