Chapter six

My eyes didn't close for even a second all through the night, expecting the person to call back. 

I just lay there, wide awake, staring at the blank screen of my phone like it could give me answers. My mind kept playing it over and over, that modulated voice, and the video. My daughter. Every minute, I checked my phone. There was nothing, no message, no missed call. I tried calling the number again. Once. Twice. Then again, I lost count after the fiftieth try. Each time I tried, it was the same message: Number not reachable. 

It was driving me insane.

I was still wearing last night’s dress—tight and suffocating. I still had my makeup on too. I curled up on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around my body like I could hold myself together that way. I couldn’t. I should’ve done more. Called the police? No, I couldn’t. No telling the cops and no telling Raymond. And now I was stuck completely alone in this nightmare.

I kept re-watching the video—her tiny chest rose and fell as she slept, unaware that she wasn’t in her bed. Unaware that she’d been taken. Oh, Christ. What do I do? 

Tears rolled down my cheeks again, silently, because I didn’t even have the strength to sob anymore. My body was cold and stiff. 

My phone vibrated. 

My hand immediately flew to the screen. It was the same number that had called me last night. 

I answered it fast and pressed it close to my ear.

“Hello?” I whispered, my voice barely there. “Hello? Please…”

There was a pause. 

“Marry Logan Grey.” I froze. My knees nearly gave out.

“W-what?” I croaked.

“Marry him,” the voice said again. “Once you’re his wife, I’ll tell you what to do next.”

My throat tightened. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Please… just tell me the reason."

“The faster you obey,” the voice said coldly, “the longer your daughter stays alive.”

I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to breathe through the pounding.

“Okay,” I said quickly, almost shouting. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll do everything you say, just… don’t hurt her. Please don’t hurt her.”

I waited, swallowed hard. Then added, “You promise to let her go if I do what you say?”

But there was no answer.

“Hello?” I said again, desperate. “Please… just promise me—”

I was still clutching the phone when the door creaked open behind me. I gasped and whipped around, hiding the phone behind my back so fast it almost slipped from my hand.

I didn't hear a knock. The only person who doesn't knock before coming in is Raymond, and Raymond mustn't know that I know my daughter isn't with him. Fortunately, the person at the door wasn't Raymond, it was Raymond's wife, Penelope. My mind eased slightly, and I quickly checked my phone to see if the person was still on the line— the caller had hung up already. 

"You've been acting weird since last night, what's wrong, step-daughter?" Penelope moved closer. Her question wasn't genuine, it was probably to mock me. I ignored her and dropped back on the bed. 

Ever since she stepped into this house, I have hated her—no, it actually started when I found out about that stupid affair she had with Raymond, back when he was still married to my mom. At first, I was angry, but then that anger turned into disgust. What was Raymond even doing with a girl barely four years older than his own daughter? It felt like a betrayal on so many levels. 

I heard her laugh. "You look so much like your mother." She snorted. I shot her a death glare. 

"Oh, take your eyes off me." She sneered, walking around like she owned the room. I ignored her, hoping she'd leave cause the caller might call back. 

"I heard from Raymond that he has your daughter with him. Who's the miserable one now?" 

I couldn’t ignore her any longer. I looked up slowly, my voice tight.

“Get out, Penelope.”

She smirked, arms folded across her chest. 

“You act like I’m the villain here. I didn’t steal your father, he came to me. I didn’t make your mother weak either, her heart gave out—what was I supposed to do? Bring her back from the dead?”

My whole body stiffened.

“She—" died because of what she walked in on. She saw you with him, and the stress killed her. That was what I wanted to say, but I swallowed it; I wasn't in the mood, nor have the time, to be arguing with her. 

I stood up. My hands were clenched so tightly, my nails were digging into my palms. “Get out.”

Her lips curved into a smug smile. “Hit a nerve?”

“I said get out, Penelope.”

She paused for a second, as if deciding whether to keep poking or to finally give it a rest then she gave a fake sigh.

“Fine,” she said. She turned toward the door, then paused like she had forgotten something.

“Oh,” she added, looking over her shoulder. “Your 'boyfriend’s' family is downstairs. They want to eat breakfast with us. So, get dressed or whatever.”

The second she was gone, I dropped back on the bed, my chest rising and falling like I’d been holding my breath the whole time. I reached for my phone again, praying for another call. Nothing.

I had to go downstairs. I had to smile and pretend all while knowing my daughter was out there with a stranger.

And I had no choice but to marry Logan Grey for now and wait for the person to call back.