CHAPTER 091: SAMANTHA’S POV

The little energy I had left was leaving me, but not just that, I feared the neighbors might think there was a burglar around. With the way I was hitting hard against the padlock, it was easy for them to do anything, maybe call the police on me. But I do not have any other choice. I would have to sleep out in the cold if I failed to open this door. The door I was struggling to open looked like an entrance to a haunted house. I was sure that every part of the floor would be covered in thick dust as well as the walls and every other thing in there. But there was no other place I could go to at this time, I had miraculously escaped from Marcus and his accomplice, with nothing left on me. There was basically nothing I could do with a dead phone, an empty purse, and a jar of pepper spray, especially not with the way I looked. No hotel would accommodate, that was if I had a means of payment. I swallowed hard. I was as thirsty as the dry land in summer. I knew I could get nothing to eat

CHAPTER 092: ALEX’S POV

The sky moved from bright and sunny to cloudy. Two police vans stood right where I parked my car. Distant enough not to create awareness.While Detective Bradford and I kept watch at the house, four other officers combed the community, the farmlands, and the surrounding bushes. And Sara? If I hadn't known she was just Lena's friend, I would have taken her to be her sister. This kind of friendship was rare, often not seen amongst sisters too.Each time I looked at her in that pitiful manner, her lips parted with that subtle assurance. She was too sure Lena would come out safely. According to her, Lena can be emotional but never weak. She was now concerned about capturing Marcus. She positioned herself right behind a farmhouse toward the major entrance of the street, distinct enough to be seen easily, yet clear enough to capture any vehicle making its way into the vicinity. I had lost count of how many hours we spent waiting, maybe five or six or more. I stood there, sandwiched betwe

CHAPTER 093: SAMANTHA’S POV

I stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of the old house, the place where I grew up. The afternoon sun beat down on the faded blue paint, making the wooden porch look even more tired than I remembered. The yard was overgrown with weeds that brushed against my ankles. My heart felt heavy in my chest as I stared at the rusted padlock on the front door.Lucy had helped call a couple of men from the street. They worked with hammers and crowbars, metal clanging against metal. Each strike sent dust and small rust flakes flying into the air. I watched them, arms wrapped around myself above my protruding stomach, the breeze tugging at my hair. I exhaled a couple of times heavily while fighting the memories flooding my mind.lQuiet dinners at the small wooden table inside. Mom dishing out rice and vegetables, three-year-old Mia giggling at something silly I said. Dad’s chair empty after he passed, but Mom still setting a place for him out of habit. The way the three of us would sit togethe

CHAPTER 094: SAMANTHA’S POV

I hung the picture back in its place. Then moved slowly through the house. Pushed the door to the kitchen, old wooden table still stood in the center, chairs pushed in neatly. I ran my hand over the surface. Dust came away on my fingers. I wiped it on the dress Lucy had given me.Then I took the narrow wooden stairs up to the second floor. Each step creaked under my weight, the sound brought back memories of sneaking down at night for water when I couldn’t sleep.My old room was first. The door stuck a little when I pushed it open. Inside, the small bed was still made, covers faded from years of sun. On the wall near the window were the inscriptions I had scratched there as a teenager, my name, Mia’s name, silly hearts and stars. A small laugh, half cry, escaped my throat.A few of my old clothes still hung in the wardrobe. I opened it. The fabric smelled musty. My hands came away covered in fine gray dust when I touched the hangers. I closed the door again.Then I walked to what used

CHAPTER 095: AUTHOR’S POV

Mr. Richard paced the living room, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the floor with every step. He dragged on his tie, loosening it a bit.The sound of his fingers snapping in anger echoed off the high ceilings and bounced back at him like an accusation. His eyebrows were drawn tight, deep lines carved between them. He lifted the phone to his ear again, for the umpteenth time in a minute, his thumb pressing hard on the redial button. The screen lit up his face in the dim evening light.The line rang once, and then twice before Alex picked up.Mr. Richard’s voice exploded through the speaker, raw and loud. Not holding back any ounce of the emotion surging through him. “What the hell is going on, Detective Thorne? First, you can’t find my daughter. Then you have nothing on Elma. And now Samantha is missing too? How many more people do I have to lose before you do your damn job?” He blurted into the gadget in his hand, lips trembling.He stopped pacing near the minibar. His fr

CHAPTER 096: SAMANTHA’S POV

I stood on Lucy’s porch, finally ready to go, the morning sun warm on my back. Lucy held my hands, like she had known me for long, or maybe an old time friend. Such a sweet woman! Being with her for just a short time left me wondering what men really wanted. That woman was human, kind in all way, fun and lively. At some point I had wanted to ask what went wrong in her marriage. But I had restrained, I had only known her for two nights.The cab waited at the curb, engine humming softly, the driver tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Lucy pulled me into one last hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly, the kind of hug that felt like home. I held on a little longer than I should have, my cheek pressed against her shoulder. I wished I had more than just a warm hug to offer her, but I was sure not to forget her in a hurry. She had been more than a friend these past two days. She had been family when I had none close by, giving me a roof when my mind was too scattered to even t