Shadow of Deception: A Mother's Love

The Box

28

Sarah's thoughts kept drifting back to Karen, who had been unusually insistent that Sarah should rely solely on the police. The nagging feeling that Karen might be involved in some way refused to leave her.

Later that night, as Sarah sat alone in her living room, Karen arrived for a visit. She brought a casserole and a sympathetic smile, but Sarah's mood was already darkened by her recent disappointment.

"How did it go today?" Karen asked, setting the dish down on the table.

"Another dead end," Sarah replied wearily.

"I found some old maps and a note, but nothing concrete."

Karen's expression was one of feigned concern.

"You're working so hard, but sometimes it's best to step back and let others take the lead."

Sarah studied Karen's face, noting the practiced sympathy in her eyes.

"I'm not ready to give up. I need to follow every lead, no matter how small."

Karen nodded, though her eyes flickered with something Sarah couldn't quite place.

"Of course. I understand. But please, don't push yourself too hard. You're already doing so much."

The conversation was a familiar one, but Sarah's instincts told her that Karen's words were more than just friendly advice. There was something almost too calculated in Karen's concern, as if she were trying to guide Sarah away from something she didn't want her to find.

---

Meanwhile, Lily sat quietly, her mind racing. Her captor had become more cautious, but not careful enough. Lily had learned the rhythm of her movements, the gaps in her vigilance. Each time the woman left her alone, Lily used those moments to study her surroundings, to test the

door, to think of a plan. She was tired and scared, but she wouldn't give in.

Lily replayed the lessons her dad had drilled into her back when he was alive.

"Remember, Lil," he'd say, his voice firm but loving,

"People will underestimate you because you're a kid. Use that. Watch everything. Learn what they don't want you to see."

His words echoed in her mind, and she clung to them like a lifeline. The woman spoke to her in a clipped, emotionless tone, reminding her daily that escape was impossible. But Lily saw through it. There was a crack in that icy demeanor, a flash of anger whenever Lily defied her. The woman was holding it together, but only just. And that was exactly what Lily was counting on.

"You're smarter than they think," she reminded herself. She was only ten, but she'd figured out something important—something about the people involved in her kidnapping. The clues had been subtle: a tone of voice, a slip of a name, the way the woman spoke about the man who came around. It all pointed to one conclusion, but Lily wasn't ready to reveal what she knew. Not yet. She had to be careful. Her dad had taught her that patience was key.

The woman entered the room, her expression cold as she handed Lily a plate of food.

"Eat," she ordered.

"You'll need your strength." There was no warmth in her words, just a rigid sense of control. But Lily didn't flinch. Instead, she smiled slightly, a small act of defiance that only made the woman's jaw tighten.

"Why are you doing this?" Lily asked, her voice steady, though her heart pounded in her chest. The woman's eyes narrowed, but she didn't answer. She turned sharply and left, slamming the door behind her.