Then I saw his social media post.
In the photo, a ten-million-dollar necklace he'd just bought at auction for his obsession, Florence Cox.
The caption read: Thirty million for one smile from you. Worth every penny.
The kidnappers called again.
"One hour! If we don't see the money, we kill the hostage!"
My voice was steady.
"I don't have the money. Go ahead and kill her."
...
I'd barely hung up when the phone rang again.
The moment I answered, Chester Henson's voice came through.
"Ella Swanson, didn't you want to save your mommy?"
"Florence was kind enough to give you a chance just now."
I said nothing.
"Your little phone call just ruined Florence's good mood. Come here, get on your knees in front of us, and apologize to her. Then I'll give you the money."
A second later, Florence Cox's voice chimed in.
"Ella, sweetie, don't be so stubborn..."
"It's just kneeling, that's all. Chester has the softest heart. Come over, apologize to me, bow your head like a good girl and admit you were wrong, and I'll have Chester wire the money right over. To save your mommy."
Save my mommy?
A laugh tore out of me. It was raw, ragged, cracking at the edges.