The moment we stepped out of the car, several burly men burst out of the tall grass, eyes gleaming with malice.
Carmela reacted first—throwing two punches, taking two men down—but before she could handle the rest, Trisha clung to her leg, screaming for help.
"Help! Don't hurt my sister!"
I moved to help, but a rough hand slammed a drugged handkerchief over my mouth and nose. My vision blurred; my knees went soft.
"Yanna!" Carmela screamed, rushing toward me—and the next thing I knew, the same damp cloth covered her face as well.
Everything went dark. In less than a minute, we both went limp on the ground.
Kian and Trisha, who were crying in panic and fighting with the criminal just a second ago, laughed out loud.
"Take them somewhere out of sight. Remember, don't kill them, just take clear footage."
Kian crouched beside my best friend, gave her cheek a sharp pat, and sneered. "Especially this one. I want her ruined for life."
The gang leader chuckled, rubbing his grimy hands together.
"Don't worry, Mr. Kian. We'll give you exactly what you want. Heh heh."
They hauled us into the back of a van and drove off. In the front seat, the kidnappers joked about how easy it had been.