Bianca whimpered beside me. “Please… please, just let us go. We didn’t do anything!”
They ignored her. One of them pulled something from his belt—thin, metallic straps and a rectangular device blinking red.
“What is that?” I whispered, my gut sinking.
They forced us to our knees and began strapping the devices around our waists. When the cold metal locked around me, I knew.
It was a bomb.
“No,” I gasped, trying to jerk away. “No! You can’t do this!”
“Stay still,” one of them barked, gripping my shoulders. “You move, you blow.”
Bianca screamed again. “No, no, no!”
“Cry all you want,” the other said. “After we get the money, you both go boom. Simple.”
They left us in the center of the room, the bombs blinking ominously, the air heavy with doom.
Bianca crawled toward me, sobbing. “What do we do? We’re going to die!”
I clenched my fists. “We’re not dying. Someone’s going to come. He has to.”
But even saying that felt like a lie. I couldn’t count on him anymore.
Minutes dragged into what felt like hours. We tried screaming, yelling, kicking the walls, but no one came.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Troy.