Chapter 3 The Son They Refused to See

I zoomed in, and zoomed in again, until the buildings in the picture came into focus. This wasn't Hawaii at all—it was the city beach.

Behind me, the kidnapper laughed, a twisted sound. "Hahaha, your parents never left the country. They're hiding like cowards! They don't want to come save you!"

The last thread in my head snapped. The horror of that truth kept me from thinking even for a second. I dragged myself to where the livestream phone lay, my face blurred by blood and tears, and I screamed at the screen, wrenching my voice raw, "Mom, Dad, it's me—Will! Can't you see me? My fingers are gone, it hurts so much, I'm dying—are you really not going to help me? I'm your son! Your biological son!"

The comments exploded.

'My heart is breaking for this child!'

'I'm the boy's father—villain, release him! I'll pay the ransom!'

'I'm the boy's mother. Let my child go. Take Ezel Lewis!'

'We're all this child's parents—say your terms!'

Countless strangers online claimed to be my parents, but my real parents never appeared.

Ever since I had returned to my birth family, I had only been met with cold stares and contempt. When I was happy, they accused me of stealing from Ezel; when I was down, they said I ruined the mood. Still, some instinctive kinship made me cling to the idea that they loved me. I had been foolish enough to believe it.

"Your parents won't come." The kidnapper cut the livestream off and pronounced without mercy.

I covered my ears and mumbled numbly, "No, maybe they just didn't see it…"

He yanked my hair and shoved the phone in my face with a sneer. "You poor, pathetic, unloved child. Face reality, little one."

A new video had come from Ezel. In it, my family stood on a beach, lighting a sweep of fireworks. Under the glow, they ate barbecue together, everyone raising glasses and laughing to celebrate Ezel's birthday. In the corner of the shot, a phone left on the table played my torture. My screaming was swallowed by their cheers.

Ezel quickly deleted the clip, then jeered, "Oops, sent to the wrong person! Dad told us to pretend we didn't see you. Will, just act like you didn't see it.

"Actually, whether you saw it or not doesn't matter—Will Lewis is just a rat that can't show its face. You're going to die in a gutter soon."

I slumped to the ground, hands shaking uncontrollably, blood welling from the severed digits. My eyes were dry; I couldn't shed another tear.

"You hate them, don't you? Loathe them. Why should they be merry while you suffer alone? If I were you, I'd get my revenge—make that family burn!" the kidnapper hissed, eyes bloodshot as he gripped my trembling hand and shoved a remote into it.

"Press this button, and a video of Shaun and his wife torturing my son years ago will spread across every major site. He'll be ruined—he'll regret ignoring you. I want Shaun Lewis to die by the hands of his own son."

The remote had lain in my palm for 24 hours, stained dark with my blood.

However, I never pressed it.

…

After 24 hours, the kidnapper was gunned down by the special ops unit that had come. A group of uniformed officers burst in, and at their head were my parents.

I lay there weak on the floor and watched them rush past me without stopping.