Chapter 1 - The Blood on the Floor
My hands trembled as I stared at Lauren's brother.
David stood in the hallway with a face completely drained of color.
I had expected him to punch me or scream at me for abandoning his paralyzed sister.
Instead, his eyes were wide with a terror I could not understand.
"What do you mean she is not here?" I asked, my voice cracking in the silent house.
David did not move toward me.
He simply pointed a shaking finger toward the hallway leading to our master bedroom.
I dropped the envelope and walked past him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The hallway felt colder than the rest of the house.
I pushed the half-open bedroom door and stepped inside.
The bed was perfectly made, completely untouched.
But the white carpet near the nightstand was stained with something dark and wet.
It was a pool of fresh blood.
"I came here to check on her because she missed her physical therapy appointment," David whispered from the doorway.
"I thought you were taking care of her."
I could not tear my eyes away from the crimson stain soaking into the fibers.
"I was away on a business trip," I lied instinctively, the shame burning my throat.
David stepped into the room and bent down near the blood.
He picked up a heavy, silver candlestick that usually sat on our dining table.
The base of it was coated in dried red flakes.
"A paralyzed woman does not fight back, Marcus," David said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.
"Someone dragged her out of this bed."
My mind raced, trying to comprehend how my safe suburban life had just turned into a crime scene.
I reached for my phone to dial emergency services.
But before my fingers could type the numbers, my phone vibrated in my hand.
I received a text message from an unknown number.
It was a picture of Lauren, unconscious and tied to a chair in a dark room.
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The caption underneath the photo made the blood freeze in my veins.
"You have exactly twenty-four hours to return the money, Marcus, or we send her back in pieces."
