Amara’s heart was a storm of dread and rage as she sat next to Lucas, watching the footage unfold before her eyes. The market scene flickered across the screen… crowded, noisy, and teeming with life.
Her gaze darted across every figure, every face, searching for her son’s small, familiar form.
But Vaughn wasn’t there.
The panic she had been barely holding back surged up her throat, nearly choking her.
She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear gnawing at her insides.
Where was her baby?
Minutes passed in agonizing silence.
The footage played on, but Vaughn remained missing, swallowed by the sea of people in the marketplace.
Amara’s pulse pounded in her ears as the time ticked by, each second an eternity. She couldn’t afford to lose any more time.
Her son could be anywhere, could be in danger, and every second counted.
Lucas worked diligently beside her, fast-forwarding through the footage as quickly as he could while still watching for any sign, any clue.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes glued to the screen, but even he looked frustrated.
Amara could feel the tension radiating off him.. he was just as on edge as she was.
And then something caught her eye.
“Wait,” Amara breathed, her voice low but urgent. “Rewind it.”
Lucas hesitated for a moment, looking at her in confusion, but he obeyed, rewinding the footage by a few minutes.
Amara leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the screen. Her gut told her something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
The marketplace played out again, the same hustle and bustle of people moving through the stalls, but…
“Rewind again,” she ordered, her voice sharper now, more certain.
Lucas gave her a questioning look. “What are you seeing, Miss Amara?”
She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes fixed on one figure in the crowd. It was subtle, but there was something off.
Amara’s breath quickened as she leaned closer, her finger brushing the screen. “That man,” she said, pointing at a figure moving in the background. “He’s been walking in the same direction… again and again.”
Lucas frowned and replayed the footage, his fingers moving quickly over the controls. They watched in silence, and Amara’s suspicion deepened.
The man appeared on the screen once more, walking down the same alleyway, in the exact same manner, his movements eerily repetitive.
“Four times,” Amara whispered, horror sinking into her bones. “He’s done the same thing four times.”
Lucas’s eyes widened in realization as he replayed the footage again.
The scene was identical, down to the tiniest detail. “It’s been tampered with,” he muttered, disbelief and anger thick in his voice. “Someone edited the footage.”
Amara’s blood ran cold.
Whoever had taken Vaughn had gone to great lengths to cover their tracks.. enough to manipulate public surveillance.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she fought them back.
She couldn’t afford to break down now, not when her son was still out there.
Her voice trembled with restrained fury. “Who could have done this? Who would go this far?”
Lucas shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. “I don’t know, but they’re powerful. This isn’t just some petty criminal. They’ve got connections.. someone who can access and alter surveillance footage like this…”
The implications weighed heavily on both of them.
Amara knew they had countless enemies, but this level of sophistication, this level of intent… it was deeply personal.
Someone was targeting her, and they had taken her son to prove it.
“I’ll extract the real footage,” Lucas said, his voice steady despite the tension in his body. “It’s going to take some time, but I can do it.”
Amara swallowed hard, nodding even though her entire being was screaming for speed.
Time was slipping away from her, each second taking her son farther out of her reach. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t just sit there and wait. “Do it. But we need to move.”
Lucas glanced at her, understanding the urgency in her tone. “You’re right. Let’s head back to the house. I’ll work on this on the way.”
Amara was already moving, switching seats with him.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she slid into the driver’s seat, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Her mind raced as she started the car, trying to focus on the road ahead even as her thoughts spiraled into dark places.
Lucas settled in beside her, pulling out his laptop and focusing on the footage again.
The car roared to life beneath them, but Amara’s mind was elsewhere.
Her son’s face flashed before her eyes, his bright smile, the way his small hands had held hers just that morning.
The thought of him being out there, alone, in the hands of someone cruel and unknown, made her stomach churn with a sickening blend of fear and fury.
Amara’s foot pressed hard on the gas pedal as they sped through the streets, the city blurring around them.
Her mind was a whirlwind of dark thoughts.
Who had taken Vaughn?
Was he safe?
Was he scared?
She bit her lip so hard it bled, trying to keep herself grounded in the present.
She needed to be strong, needed to keep her head clear, but it felt impossible with the overwhelming terror that was consuming her.
Beside her, Lucas worked silently, his brow furrowed as he tried to extract the unaltered footage.
His fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard, but there was a tension in his posture..
“Miss,” he said after a few minutes, his voice strained. “It’s going to take time. This isn’t something I can fix right away.”
Amara’s grip tightened on the wheel, her jaw clenching. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, but hearing those words still felt like a punch to the gut.
Time….!!
Time was the one thing they didn’t have…!!
Her knuckles ached as she gripped the wheel tighter, her thoughts spiraling.
Every moment they spent driving back to the house, every second Lucas spent working on that footage.. it was another second her son was out of her reach.
Vaughn’s small, scared face flickered in her mind, and she could almost hear his voice, calling out for her.
She forced her mind back to the road, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t go away.
Her son was in danger, and she was powerless.
No amount of driving, no amount of anger could change the fact that someone had taken her baby, and they were slipping farther and farther away.
“Don’t break,” she whispered to herself, the words barely audible but filled with desperate resolve. “You can’t break.”
Lucas looked over at her, his face grim but determined. “We’ll find him Miss,” he said quietly, as if sensing her internal struggle. “We’ll get him back.”
Amara didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her throat was too tight, her heart too heavy. All she could do was press down on the gas and hope that they weren’t too late.