VANESSA
I remained frozen in my cell, my breath caught in my throat as footsteps echoed down the corridor. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I stared at the air vent where just minutes earlier, I'd helped my son escape.
Two men paused outside my door. My heart hammered so violently I feared they'd hear it.
"Has she said anything?" one asked.
"Not a word. Stubborn bitch."
I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay still, to show nothing on my face. The tiny gap where the vent cover didn't quite fit back properly seemed to scream for attention.
"The boss wants to move her tomorrow. Said the kid's ransom is the priority now."
My stomach twisted. My sweet Fabian, only six years old, now navigating this nightmare alone. Tears threatened, but I blinked them away. Crying wouldn't help him.
"Let's check on the brat later," the other guard said. "Kid keeps asking for his mom. Annoying as hell."