A lost slumber

XIII

A week passed by and Larry finally got the footage back . It turns out that the police just needed a copy without it being tampered with.

During lunch , I ask Larry to look into the hours of 5-6 pm from that Friday. He checks it and I see Ezme exciting her car and entering the building. She heads to Mr.Peterson's room and talks to him for about 15 minutes. Ezme leaves the school building and gets picked up in a car, I haven't seen before. I didn't see Mr.Peterson leave the school building  until 9:30 pm.

I thank Larry for his help and go about my day. I don't have any leads. I feel defeated and pathetic. Ezme's been missing for 2 weeks and there hasn't been any new discoveries in her case.

The day becomes a dull gray blur and eventually I go home. To my surprise there are police cars surrounding my house. My mother is standing at the door looking for something. I get out my car and I rush towards her. " Mom . What's going on?" I ask.

" I'm sorry," She says. " This is for your own good."

I look around and ask myself , ' What's for my own good?' I turn to my mom , tears swelling in my eyes, and ask her , " What's going on?"

She doesn't answer my question. Instead I hear an officer say , " Celeste Reyes you are under arrest for having a hand in the kidnapping of Ezme Fernandez."

I panic. What is he talking about. I look at my mom and she can't even look back in my direction. " Mom!" I shout. I don't get an answer. No matter how long I shout or how loud my shouting gets , I don't get a response from her. Not when I get dragged down the sidewalk , as I get shoved into the car, or even as I look at her with desperation. All I get is pitiful looks.

I get to the station and they put me in a room with one window ( that you can't see the other side of) and cuff me to the table. I sense the harshness of the isolation I face in this room. With nothing else to do, I take a nap.

" Well what the hell do you want me to do?" The kidnapper shouts into the phone. I can't help but wonder what they're talking about. I still can't see them , but I can hear their footsteps getting further away from the room. I can't tell how long it's been , but I've gotten used to the foul stench that used to cover the room. My body aches from having to sit in a chair for so long. I've gotten constant headaches over these past few days. It's probably from the lack of water and or food.

The footsteps return to the room with an agitated sound. The door creaks as it opens. I smell the stench of a cigarette. " I don't know man. It sounds risky." The kidnapper says, uneasy. I start listening in on the conversation. " You know the storm is going to be bad. We've got to move her. The whole area is going to be flooded. I don't know about you , but I don't want a death on my hands." As soon as they say that I get tense. Will I ever be able to leave?

The kidnapper hangs up the phone and begins to approach me. They touch my face with their gloves and I can't help but feel disgusted. It's only then that I realize that I'm a sitting duck. I have no control over what happens and I'm sitting on what's probably borrowed time.

The kidnapper begins to say," It's your lucky day Ezme. Get ready to move in-." I don't hear the rest because I'm woken up by the thud of a door.Startled I look around the room.

The detective enters the room and hostility says, " Talk."
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