I clasped the delicate lace of my bridal gown so tightly that my knuckles turned an ashen white. The pristine fabric, meant to symbolize purity and new beginnings, now enshrouded me like a funerary veil, suffocating the remnants of my former freedom...
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We were at the end of our rope. Every lead we'd chased had left us with nothing to go on. We finally arrived at the place where Yasenia's phone had last pinged, our last hope. As we stepped out of the car, I couldn't help but feel the weight of desperation and anxiety bear down upon me. It was a desolate and barren stretch of land, not a soul in sight.
I walked around the area, my eyes scanning every inch of the ground, hoping to catch even the slightest clue. My heart sank as I saw a broken and battered phone lying on the side of the road, its screen shattered into a thousand pieces. The scums had discarded it like trash, thinking they could throw us off the scent.
My frustration boiled over, and I felt a seething anger deep inside me. I raised my gun to the sky and fired it wildly, the deafening sound of gunshots echoing across the desolate landscape.
Yasenia was still out there somewhere, and time was running out.
Sonny's voice cut through the silence, his voice trembling with desperation. "What do we do now? If we lose her-"
I cut him off, my eyes blazing with anger. "We won't lose her! We can't. We'll find her, no matter what it takes."
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Seven hours ago.
"Please, Dad, please open your eyes!" I held him tightly, trying to ignore the crimson stain spreading across his shirt.
His eyes flickered open, but the pain was evident in his expression as he struggled to sit up. I instinctively held him down, fearful of aggravating his injuries. "No, Dad, stay still," I urged him, feeling my heart racing in panic.
"It's okay, honey, I'm okay," he reassured me, his grip tightening around my hand as he tried to catch his breath.
My gaze drifted downwards, and I gasped in relief when I realized the bullet wound was only on his shoulder. Attempting to stem the bleeding, I quickly applied pressure to the wound.
"You'll be alright, papá, I promise," I said, almost to myself, the words coming out as a prayer.
I rushed to grab towels from the kitchen to staunch the bleeding. But as I made my way to the kitchen, my legs started to give way, and I felt as though the world was spinning out of control, the shock of the situation catching up with me. Fighting back nausea, I took deep breaths, trying to steady myself, and carried on.
