the call

The late afternoon sun drenched the luxurious resort in a golden haze, casting long, lazy shadows over the sparkling pool. Laughter and the clink of glasses floated in the air as vacationers sipped cocktails, reclined on sun loungers, and enjoyed the blissful tranquility of a perfect holiday. The air was warm, scented with salt from the nearby ocean, and the faint hum of distant waves blended with the murmur of relaxed conversation.

Among them, Stacy's parents were enjoying a rare escape. Her mother reclined with a drink in hand, her husband beside her, both of them wrapped in the rare comfort of an uninterrupted break. They were surrounded by friends, who laughed and joked in the easy way that people do when the biggest concern of the day is whether to order another round of drinks or take a dip in the pool.

Her mother reached lazily for her glass, lifting it to her lips, when a sharp, unfamiliar sound interrupted the moment—her phone buzzed loudly on the table between them. A slight frown creased her brow. They had promised each other no interruptions, no distractions, nothing from home allowed to break into their time away.

But the buzzing continued, persistent.

With a sigh, she reached for it, her body still relaxed from the warmth of the sun. As she glanced at the screen, her expression shifted, the smile fading from her face. The screen displayed an unexpected name—a reminder of the world they had momentarily left behind.

Her husband, noticing the sudden change in her demeanor, leaned closer. "Who is it?"

She didn't answer right away, her thumb hovering over the screen as if willing the call to go away. The atmosphere, once carefree, now felt tenuous, like the world had tilted on its axis. With a deep breath, she pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" Her voice was cautious, uncertain.

The voice on the other end spoke quickly, but her husband couldn't hear what was being said. All he could see was the sudden widening of his wife's eyes, her hand gripping the phone tighter with each word that came through.

Her friends, sensing something was wrong, began to shift in their seats, their laughter dying down as they exchanged curious and worried glances.

"What do you mean… blood?" Her voice cracked, loud enough for those sitting nearby to hear. The word hung in the air like a bomb, heavy and alarming.

Her husband sat up straight, his body tensing, alarm now etched on his face. "What is it?" he asked, his voice quiet but insistent.

She ignored him for the moment, still listening intently to the voice on the other end of the line, her face paling with every passing second. "No, no... That can't be right. Where's Stacy? Did anyone see her?"

The words "Stacy" and "blood" whispered through the air, sending shockwaves through their group of friends. Conversations halted entirely now, all eyes on the couple as they tried to piece together what was happening.

Her hand trembled as she pressed the phone harder to her ear, leaning forward in her chair as if trying to hear better, trying to make sense of the nightmare that was unfolding. "What do you mean, she's missing? Blood? Where's the sheriff?"

Her husband, growing more anxious by the second, stood up and moved to her side, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "What happened? Tell me what they said."

But she couldn't answer right away, her mind racing, her heart pounding as the panic in the voice on the other end of the line grew more frantic. "They found blood outside the house? And Stacy's necklace? The one she never takes off? God, no..." Her voice faltered, her breathing shallow.

Finally, the call ended. She lowered the phone slowly, her face ashen, her hands trembling. For a moment, she just sat there, stunned into silence, staring blankly at her husband as if she couldn't quite believe what she had just heard.

"What did they say?" he asked again, more urgently this time, his own fear now mounting.

The words were caught in her throat, as if saying them aloud would make it all too real. She turned to him, her eyes wide and filled with tears. "Stacy's missing. They found blood at the house... and her things... scattered everywhere. They don't know where she is."

The weight of her words hit him like a physical blow. His face drained of color, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Blood? What do you mean, blood? How much blood?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice shaking. "They said a lot. It was all over the porch. Glass broken... Everything a mess. But Stacy... she's gone. No one's seen her."

A stunned silence fell over their group, the easy, carefree mood of the resort shattered in an instant. Their friends, who had only moments ago been laughing and lounging by the pool, were now sitting up straight, their faces somber and concerned. They exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to do or say. The sound of the ocean waves in the distance seemed to fade, replaced by the heavy, oppressive silence of dread.

One of the women sitting nearby tentatively asked, "Is there anything we can do? Do you need to get back home?"

Her husband nodded slowly, his jaw set, his eyes distant as he tried to process what was happening. "We need to go back. Now."

The mother, still sitting in shock, looked at him with wide eyes. "What if something terrible happened to her? What if we're too late?"

He knelt down in front of her, grabbing both of her hands and squeezing them tightly. "We'll find her. I don't care what it takes. We'll find her."

Their friends stood up now, gathering their things in a flurry of motion, ready to help in any way they could. One of the men started making arrangements to call for a car to take them back to the airport, while others murmured words of support and sympathy.

The vacation, once a peaceful escape, had turned into a nightmare. The sun still shone brightly over the resort, but for Stacy's parents, the warmth and beauty of the place were now lost, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness.

The mother wiped at her eyes, her hands trembling. "I should have known something was wrong. I should have called to check on her... Why didn't I call?"

Her husband pulled her close, holding her as tightly as he could. "You couldn't have known. We'll find her. We have to believe that."

But even as he said the words, a cold fear gripped him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened, something far worse than they could imagine. And the realization that they were miles away, unable to do anything but wait, made the fear all the more unbearable.

As they gathered their things and rushed to leave, the once-idyllic resort seemed distant, irrelevant. The only thing that mattered now was finding their daughter—and hoping, against all odds, that she was still safe.