“Mae, listen to me. I need you to stay quiet but keep talking to me. Anything you hear, anything you see—describe it.”
“I—I hear footsteps,” she whimpered. “Please… please tell my family I love them.”
No. No, no, no.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the panic seep into my voice. “Mae, don’t say that. We’re getting you out of there.”
A loud noise came through the call—shuffling, a muffled scream. Then silence.
The line went dead.
“No!” I gasped, slamming my hand against the desk. The tracking window blinked before disappearing. We lost all the data. The trace was gone.
My hands trembled as I desperately tried to recover the lost information, but it was useless. Whoever had taken Mae had severed the call at the worst possible moment. I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath hitching in my throat. Was she still alive? Had I just listened to her final words?
Tears welled up in my eyes, but before they could spill, my phone rang again. Another unknown number.
I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to switch back into professional mode. I swallowed my fear and picked up.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
A low chuckle echoed through the receiver, slow and deliberate. My stomach twisted.
That laugh.