Maya sat on the edge of the living room couch, her fingers still locked around her phone even after the dreadful video ended. The house buzzed with urgency—officers coming and going, Ron barking orders into his earpiece, and Damian coordinating a tactical response. But her ears were ringing with the image of her babies—tied up, helpless, with death ticking away by the second.
Her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Number.
She answered it immediately. "Hello?!"
A chillingly calm voice responded.
"Hello, Maya. Did you like the video?"
Maya froze. "Lisa…"
"I told you once, didn't I? You took everything from me. Now I'm just returning the favor." Her voice was laced with quiet venom. "You have one hour."
"Where are they? What do you want?!"
"I'll send you the location. Come alone. If I even suspect you've told Damian or the police, I swear to you, I will make you watch what happens when a bomb goes off with your children strapped to it."
Maya's heart stuttered.
