LARA:
I woke up with a splitting headache in a dark, cold room. As my senses returned, I realized I was tied to a chair in a strange place, my wrists bound tightly. My throat was parched, hunger gnawed at me—How long had I been here? Hours, maybe more.
Shit..
I tried to piece together what had happened, and then it all rushed back—I'd bolted from Ana's house as soon as I heard Leo talking about Amara. So, Amara had been hiding from him? But why?
I didn't know Leo's real intentions, but something about him didn't sit right.
I'd quickly tried calling Mark, but every attempt went straight to voicemail. Right. He'd mentioned he'd be in a meeting today. Great timing. With no other option, I video-called home. Relief washed over me as soon as Amara's face appeared on the screen. She looked safe—for now. "Amara, listen carefully. Lock all the doors and windows, and don't let anyone in until I get home. Understand?"
Confused, she nodded. Good enough.
I got into my car and hit the road, but luck wasn't on my side. In the rearview mirror, I spotted two black BMWs tailing me. Fuck.
I floored the gas, weaving through traffic, glancing back every few seconds—they were still on me. I tried calling Mark again. Voicemail. Now what?
Swerving through the Massachusetts traffic, I spotted a chance as the lanes started to slow. Taking a sharp right, I darted down a side road, hoping to shake them off. After a tense chase, they were finally gone. I took a shaky breath. As soon as I got home, I'd grab Amara and—
My phone rang. An unknown number. Heart pounding, I picked up. "Hello?"
"Is this Miss Lara Garcia? This is Sheriff Hampton. Are you Amara's guardian?"
My stomach twisted as I pulled over. "Y-yes... Sheriff... what—what happened?"
The sheriff's voice was urgent, laced with concern as he said, "We received a call from a little girl, Amara, saying she's alone at home, and someone is trying to break in. She gave us your number."
Dread punched me in the gut. "Shit... Officer, is she okay? I—I need to—"
"Stay calm, miss. We're on our way, and I promise we'll get to her in time," he assured me. "But I need your help to locate the house."
"Yes! Of course!" I blurted, desperate. "The address is—" I quickly told him. "Please, you have to hurry! There were some men stalking her... they've been after her for days. I'm on my way there now. Can you—"
"Don't worry, miss," he interrupted, his voice steady. "I'll be there within minutes, and I'll wait for you."
As I restarted the car, a chilling realization hit me.
Wait... why would Amara call the police instead of me, especially when she's so adamant about staying hidden? And how could the sheriff not locate the address if she called them directly?
Oh my god. It's a trap.
I floored the gas, racing back as fast as possible.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, I reached home and rushed inside, my heart in my throat. But the scene before me froze me in place—our house was in shambles, turned upside down, furniture broken, glass scattered everywhere. And no sign of Amara.
"Amara?" I called out, my voice shaking. "Amara!"
Silence.
Fuck.
My mind spiraled, terror taking hold, until suddenly something hard struck the back of my head, and I collapsed to the floor. Everything spun, a loud ringing filled my ears, and blurry images swam before me. Blinking, I struggled to focus—and then I saw her.
Amara. Two large men had her trapped in a corner, tears streaming down her face.
Tears filled my own eyes.
"Welcome home, Miss Garcia," a cold voice said from behind me.
Then, another blow.
Everything went dark.
My head throbbed painfully as I tried to grasp my surroundings. Disoriented, I scanned the dark, cold room and nearly panicked when I saw no one—until I spotted Amara, huddled in the far corner.
"Amara!" I whispered urgently. "Are you okay?"
Amara's wide, frightened eyes met mine, and for the first time, she spoke. Almost a whisper. "We're all going to die," she stammered. "T- they're going to kill us."
I swallowed hard, trying to hide my fear. "No, it's going to be okay," I whispered back, "we'll get out of here together."
She shook her head, trembling. "You don't understand. They never forgive. They're taking us back to the island... and I heard them. They're going to kill all of us."
My mind spun. "Who are 'they'? And what island?" I demanded, desperate for answers.
"They're the ones I escaped from," she said, voice breaking. "The island... It's where they keep us. And now that they've got me, they'll kill everyone who knows."
The dim light barely allowed us to see each other, but I could feel the despair in her words. I tugged at the ropes binding my hands, but they were tight and unyielding. Fear clawed at me—maybe if I'd told Ana about Amara sooner, we'd have had a chance. I wanted to tell Mark I love him, to tell Ana that she's like family, the only real one I have left.
But I'd wasted all my chances, and now I was out of time. I couldn't afford to dwell on it. I had to keep fighting for Amara, the other kids... and myself. I struggled harder, teeth clenched against the pain as I pulled at the ropes.
Then, we heard it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching, getting louder with each step.
"What do we do?" Amara's voice trembled as her eyes met mine, filled with raw fear.
"Stay with me," I whispered, giving her a reassuring look, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "Don't worry. I'm right here with you. We'll get through this together, okay?"
I braced myself for the worst as the door creaked open, the sound echoing in the silence. Holding my breath, I strained to see in the dim light, the room barely visible through the shadows. And then, two men stepped in—the same ones who had chased Amara.
A figure moved forward from behind them, his face slowly coming into focus as he stepped into the faint light.
My eyes widened, my pulse racing as I took in the cruel smirk on his face. My heart dropped as recognition set in.
Leo Hudson.