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Annabelle

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The message was from another new number. Annabelle held it so that both she and Matt could read it.

If you want to see your children again you will do exactly as I say. Understood?

She squeezed his upper arm. ‘Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘This is actually happening.’

He glanced at her. ‘I think they want a reply. For us to say we got the message.’

‘OK,’ she said. She typed a reply.

Understood.

The reply was immediate.

Good. And I see you have not informed the police. So we can move forward.

‘They know,’ Annabelle said. ‘They know we haven’t told the police.’

‘It could be a bluff,’ Matt said. ‘Or a guess.’

‘Maybe.’ She pressed her head to his chest. This was unbelievable. They were having a text conversation with the kidnapper of their children. Her stomach heaved. She dropped the phone and staggered out of the living room. The door of the downstairs bathroom banged as she slammed it open and threw up in the toilet bowl. She stayed kneeling before it, her hands on the tiled floor.

Matt appeared in the doorway.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘If I hadn’t left them—’

‘Don’t,’ Annabelle said. She didn’t want to go down this route, not now. She didn’t know where it would end, because he was right, if he hadn’t left them …

But that wasn’t going to bring them back, and at the back of her mind she couldn’t stop the idea that this was coming someday, whatever they did. This person was so determined, so twisted, that they were going to get to their kids one way or another, come what may.

‘Ask for proof they’re alive,’ she said. ‘I need to know my babies are OK.’

He typed a message and showed it to her.

Please send proof the children are well.

The reply was immediate.

Later. First, I tell you what I want.

‘This is it,’ Matt said. ‘This is when whoever this is asks for something we don’t have and we have to try and sort this mess out.’

‘You still think it’s money?’

‘It’s always money. What else could it be? We’ll do whatever we have to, Annabelle. Sell the house. Ask my sister. Your brother. They can have everything we own.’

She closed her eyes. ‘What if it’s not enough? What if we’re nowhere near having what they want?’

‘We’ll offer what we can,’ Matt said.

‘And if that’s not enough?’ Annabelle said. ‘If they think it’s too risky to be worth it to them and we never hear from them again?’

‘We’ll take the risk anyway. Beg them to return the kids. We’ll promise not to pursue them if they do. We’ll promise not to tell anyone. They can have everything and walk away.’ He got to his feet. ‘But we can cross that bridge later.’ He held out her hand for the phone and typed a message.

What do you want?

They stared at the screen, waiting. The silence seemed to stretch forever, then the reply came.

The ransom is Annabelle. If you want to see your children again, you will exchange them for her.

The silence stretched on.

‘No,’ Annabelle said eventually. ‘No, not this. That’s crazy. It’s impossible.’

‘I’m going to call the number,’ Matt said. ‘Talk to them. This is madness.’

Before he could call, another message arrived.

You have my demand. It is simple and non-negotiable. Further instructions will come tomorrow morning. You will have one chance to agree. If you accept my terms, your children will be returned to you unharmed. If not, you will never see them alive again.

Matt pressed call. She watched as his face contorted in agony.

‘Shit!’ he said. ‘Too late. Just a message saying there’s no voicemail. The phone’s dead. It’s been switched off, or destroyed.’

Annabelle barely heard the words. She folded her arms tightly.

‘Matt,’ she said. ‘It’s me. I’m the ransom.’

‘No. That’s not going to happen. It’s ludicrous.’

‘Maybe,’ Annabelle said. ‘But it’s happening. This is real, Matt.’

‘There’s a way out of this,’ he said. ‘There has to be.’

‘Then what is it?’ she said. ‘What the hell are we going to do?’

The Choice

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