Arron stared in disbelief at the two people who walked through the door.
Ashley.
And Roy.
Jennifer's voice trembled. "Ashley… what is going on? Why are we here?"
Roy laughed, stepping forward with sick excitement. "It's party time. And we're going to have some fun."
Ashley flipped on the overhead lights.
Courtney, Arron, Jennifer, and Jose all gasped when they saw the long tables lined with tools—chains, knives, ropes, hammers, and objects none of them wanted to imagine being used.
Ashley clapped her hands. "Let's play a little game."
Roy grinned. "It's called Truth or Get Hurt. You lie… we hurt you."
Arron tried reasoning, voice cracking. "Come on. We've known each other for years. You don't have to do this."
Ashley walked over to him slowly, smiling sweetly—
then drove her fist into his upper leg, right where he had surgery.
Arron screamed in agony.
Roy laughed. "Anyone else wanna tell us what we want to hear?"
Courtney, Arron, Jennifer, and Jose exchanged looks—fear, confusion, desperation.
They all wondered the same thing:
What the hell is going to happen to us?
---
Meanwhile…
Steve drove me to school.
"I'm going to run the tracker while you're in class," he said. "If I'm not here to pick up you and Mark after school, go straight to Courtney's house, lock the doors, and don't let anyone in. Understand?"
I nodded.
Mark was waiting near the entrance. I forced a smile and stepped out of Steve's old silver '96 Chevy truck. Mark hugged me immediately.
"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I hugged him back. "I feel like one. A lot happened while you were gone."
As I explained everything—Courtney missing, Arron kidnapped, the box, the killers—Mark's face drained of color.
"So… they're all missing? And Steve's trying to find them?" Mark whispered.
I squeezed his hand. "Everything's going to be okay. Steve knows what he's doing."
We walked to our lockers together, grabbed our books, and Mark asked if we were still eating lunch together.
I managed a small smile. "Yes. Definitely."
---
At the station…
Steve entered the police department and took the elevator to the fourth floor—the homicide unit. He went straight to his desk.
His partner, Jaime, walked over with a cup of coffee.
"Any news?"
Steve explained everything—Keith Jones, Sue's letter, the star symbol, the connections between all the victims, even the trackers Sue implanted in her kids when they were little.
Jaime's eyes widened.
"Wait—Sue Jones had trackers put in her kids in case they were kidnapped, and we're just finding that out now?"
Steve slammed his hands on the desk. "YES. Now you're getting it."
Jaime, the tech genius, grabbed the paper with the tracker info and sat at her computer. She typed fast, switching screens, digging deep.
The room stayed dead silent for thirty straight minutes.
Then—
"I FOUND HIM!" Jaime screamed, nearly falling out of her chair.
Steve ran over.
On the screen were two blinking dots.
"Katie is here—that's the school," Jaime said. "And look—Arron is in a building about two and a half hours away."
Steve grabbed his coat, already running for the door.
"LET'S GO!"