Ethan kissed Victoria goodbye Friday morning, suitcase already in the truck. “Three days of fishing with the guys,” he said, smiling like it was the best plan ever. “You sure you’ll be okay home alone?”
She nodded, hugged him tight, told him to catch something big. Watched him drive off. Then she waited.
At 11:17 a.m. her phone buzzed. Jaxon.
We’re outside. Black truck. No bags. Just you.
She grabbed her keys, locked the door, and walked out. Cole leaned against the passenger door, smirking. Jaxon sat behind the wheel, engine idling. They’d “forgotten” to pack for the fishing trip. Ethan would never know.
The drive took two hours—paved roads turning to gravel, then dirt, trees closing in thick. No cell signal after the first twenty minutes. No neighbors. Just pines and silence broken
