Kidnapped Love

Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

I arrived home, noticing that Ron's truck was still not in the driveway. Clearly, I'd be having dinner alone.

After a peaceful evening to myself of watching lifetime movies, I woke up the next day eager for the one thing I was not going to miss. My calendar had kindly reflected that today was the day of the interview of missing women that supposedly were kidnapped and then set free. The crime of the century in this quiet small town. The same crime that had cost my friend the fate of her own mother.

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the rumpled sheets. I stretched, my limbs heavy with sleep, but my mind already churning with the day's anticipation. Today was the day of the interview - the one that had been haunting local news channels for weeks. Amber and Laura, two names that had become synonymous with sorrow and mystery, were finally going to tell their story after six harrowing months of silence.

My breath caught slightly at the thought of what might be revealed, the secrets that were about to spill out into the open air. Lori and Ron's absence in the house seemed trivial by comparison; they had a habit of disappearing on their little escapades without notice. I pushed thoughts of them aside, focusing instead on the here and now.

I made my way into the living room, the remote felt smooth and familiar in my hand as I plopped down onto the couch, its cushions hugging me in a comfortable embrace. I thumbed the power button on the remote.

The television screen blinked to life, a burst of color and sound flooding the room. I flicked through the channels, the cacophony of morning shows and infomercials buzzing like a swarm of bees until I landed on the right channel—the one that would soon air the interview. The screen showed a teaser, a dramatic montage of the two women overlaid with somber music, and my heartbeat quickened.

"Six months... it's a long time to vanish off the face of the earth," I mused aloud, leaning back into the cushions. "What horrors did you endure?" My fingers gripped the fabric of the couch, a tinge of anxiety knotting my stomach. It wasn't just morbid curiosity that gnawed at me; it was empathy, a shared sense of fear and hopelessness that perhaps only those who have touched the darkness could understand.

Settling deeper into the sofa as the screen faded to the studio set where the interview would take place. My eyes remained fixed on the television, waiting for the moment of revelation, for the truth that had eluded us all for half a year.

The studio lights cast an unforgiving glare on the somber set of "Jillian Jean: Stories of Survival." The two women, Amber and Laura, stepped into the frame, their eyes carrying the weight of untold stories. Their skin held a pallor that spoke of months without sunlight, and their thin frames moved with a hesitancy that betrayed an unfamiliarity with freedom. Jillian Jean enveloped them in her presence, her stature and warmth attempting to bridge the gap between the world they had returned to and the one they had been torn from. She wore a grey business suit, and had her midnight black hair pinned back out of her face. She greeted with the women with a soft embrace and gestured for them to sit in the adjoining chairs next to their hostess.

"I'm sure everyone has been keeping up with the local news stories about these random kidnappings happening in our neighborhood, but today we have two women who were miraculously released from these captors without any abuse or injury." Jillian spoke in a loud, confident tone, addressing her audience with the introduction.

"Amber," Jillian's voice was soft but firm, "take us back to that morning—what happened?"

The camera focused on Amber's face, the hint of a tremble in her lip. She had chestnut brown hair, and when the camera zoomed in on her face it showed her bright green eyes filled with the glossy appearance of tears starting to swell. "I... I was out for my usual jog before sunrise," she began, her voice a haunting whisper. "It was quiet, peaceful. And then I felt a prickling sense that someone was watching me. I noticed I was being followed by two men in masks."