My Granddaughter Called Me Late at Night and Said “Call 911, Mommy is Hurt” — What Happened Next Was Shocking

Doubts in the shadows

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Huddled in the living room, the scant light from the lamp casting long shadows, we contemplated our next steps. The fear that the kidnapper could be two steps ahead, perhaps even watching our every move, was paralyzing. “Could he be listening now?” Vivian’s voice was barely a whisper, reflecting the paranoia that clung to us like a second skin. I pondered, heart heavy, the unnerving thought that someone within the police force could be compromised, feeding information to this faceless adversary.

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