"Sir, let's talk this out. Even if you have me tied up, it won't change anything. Tell me what you want. I have money; I can give you money." Grace Winslow instinctively backed away.
With a knife right in front of her, it was hard not to be scared.
But fear wasn't going to solve anything. She had to save herself.
"Money? How much money could you have? Do you have any idea how hard it was for us to grab all those kids? One kid sells for a hundred or two. Dozens of them? That's several thousand. Can you give me several thousand?" the man sneered, patting Grace Winslow's cheek with a little more force. Grace felt a fiery sting spread across her face.
The blade was cold, and she was both terrified and frantic.
"I don't have it on me, but my family does. You can go to my parents, or my brother."
