If I waited, she stayed trapped.
If Ryan came back and realized I knew—everything could fall apart.
I needed help.
Someone I trusted.
I called my brother.
“Michael.”
That was all I said.
His voice changed instantly. “What happened?”
“Come now.”
“I’m on my way.”
When he arrived, I handed him the phone.
He read in silence. His face hardened. His jaw tightened.
Then he looked at me, and I saw it—the same horror I felt.
“Where did you get this?”
“He left it.”
He scrolled further. Listened to a voice message. Looked at the photo.
His hand trembled.
“Oh my God…”
“It’s her,” I whispered. “It’s my girl.”
He grabbed my shoulders. “I know.”
We stood there, holding onto each other, the truth settling over us like something heavy and suffocating.
Then he said, “We call Sheriff Daniel Brooks.”
Daniel had known our family for years. If there was anyone we could trust—it was him.
He came alone.
Read everything.
Listened carefully.
Then he looked at me.
“Tell me everything. From the moment he left.”
I told him.
Every detail.
Every second.
When I finished, he was very still.
