Every morning in our rundown Texas rental, my husband dragged me to the backyard, tied my hands to the porch pillar, and lashed my pregnant belly while yelling, “All you make is worthless daughters—you’re a broken wife!”

My heart completely stopped beating as David’s horrific threat echoed in my ears.

I tried to jump out of the hospital bed, but the IV lines violently jerked my arm back.

The lead officer forcefully shoved David against the wall and demanded to know where the children were hiding.

David just laughed coldly and invoked his right to an attorney.

Agnes was smiling proudly as she was dragged down the hallway in handcuffs.

I screamed at the doctor to discharge me immediately so I could find my babies.

The doctor refused, citing the massive blood loss I had suffered from the traumatic miscarriage.

I did not care about my own life or health anymore.

I ripped the IV needle out of my vein and ignored the blood dripping down my arm.

A sympathetic young female officer named Ramirez gently pushed me back onto the mattress.

She promised me that they would issue a statewide Amber Alert within the next ten minutes.

I knew David’s brother, Marcus, was a violent man with heavy connections to the local border cartel.

An Amber Alert would not stop a man who smuggled dangerous contraband across the Texas border for a living.

I knew I had to take matters into my own hands if I wanted to see my daughters alive.

I waited patiently until Officer Ramirez turned her back to speak to the nurses at the main station.

I slipped out of the bed, grabbed a set of blue scrubs from a nearby cart, and snuck out through the service elevator.

I managed to steal a running delivery car left idling at the hospital loading dock.

I drove straight to Marcus’s auto repair shop located on the desolate outskirts of town.

The shop was completely dark, but a single flickering light glowed from the underground maintenance pit.

I quietly crept down the concrete stairs with a heavy steel wrench clutched tightly in my hand.

I rounded the corner and saw Marcus lying on the floor in a massive pool of fresh blood.

My two daughters were nowhere to be seen in the empty garage.

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A dark figure suddenly stepped out from the shadows and pressed a cold gun barrel against the back of my head.

“You really should have stayed in the hospital, Maya,” a familiar female voice whispered.

Chapter 2 - The Missing Girls