Ella’s Point of ViewThe cabin was a cage of flickering shadows, the red and blue sirens pulsing through the boarded window, painting the bare walls with a frantic glow. The police megaphone’s command—“Marcus Carter, release the hostage and surrender!”—echoed in my ears, a lifeline that sparked hope where despair had taken root. My heart pounded, the manacle chaining my ankle to the cot biting deeper as I stood, my long black hair clinging to my tear-streaked face, my sweater torn and damp with sweat. Shawn had found me, somehow, his urgency cutting through the miles, his promise to protect me now a reality. But the locked door, the chain, and Marcus’s obsession stood between me and freedom. My thoughts clung to my daughter in Seattle—her laughter, her trust—a reason to fight, to survive, even as fear coiled in my gut.The door burst open, and Marcus stormed in, his face twisted with panic, his dark eyes wild under the flickering bulb. His calm delusion was gone, replaced by a despe
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