CHAPTER 8: THE DARK ROOM
Agent Webb arrived with a full tactical team.
They set up in the living room.
Cameras. Screens. Maps.
It looked like the inside of a spy movie.
I stood in the middle of it all, wearing a bulletproof vest that felt two sizes too big.
"Mrs. Harper, I need you to understand something," Webb said. "This is not a rescue mission. This is a recovery operation."
"What's the difference?"
"A rescue means we know where she is. A recovery means we're still searching. And we have a very narrow window."
I took a deep breath.
"How narrow?"
"The plane for London leaves at 5:30 tomorrow morning. We have less than twelve hours to find Emma and stop them."
"Then let's get started."
The team worked through the night.
They tracked phone signals. Monitored financial transactions. Scanned airport records.
At 2:17 a.m., they found something.
A hotel reservation.
Made under the name James Morrison.
At a motel thirty miles away.
"We have them," Webb said.
He looked at me.
"Mrs. Harper, I need you to stay here."
"No."
"Please—"
"I said no. That's my daughter. I'm going."
He studied me for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Fine. But you stay behind me. And if I tell you to get down, you get down."
We drove through the dark.
The motel appeared out of the shadows.
A single-story building with flickering lights and peeling paint.
Perfect for hiding.
Agent Webb motioned for the team to surround the building.
We approached the door.
Room 17.
I stood beside Webb as he raised his fist.
He knocked.
The door opened.
A woman's face appeared.
Miranda Vance.
Her eyes widened when she saw me.
Then she reached for something behind the door.
Webb pushed me aside.
The gunshot came a second later.
"GET DOWN!"
I dropped to the floor.
Webb returned fire.
Miranda fell backward into the room.
I crawled toward the doorway.
Through the gap, I saw a small figure in the corner.
Emma.
"EMMA!"
She was crying.
Scared.
Tucked behind a bed.
I reached for her.
"Mommy!"
But before I could get to her, I saw something else.
Daniel.
He was standing in the back of the room.
A gun in his hand.
Pointed at me.
"Don't move," he said.
I froze.
Daniel looked different. Harder. Colder.
"Hello, Maya," he said.
"Let her go, Daniel."
"I can't do that."
"Please. She's our daughter."
"No. She's a product. And I need to finish the transaction."
"Product?"
I stared at him.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the person you never really knew. And if you don't back off, I'm going to make sure you never get the chance to know anyone else."
May you like
I heard the click of the gun.
And I felt the air leave my lungs.
