Laura's POV
I sat cross-legged on my bed with my palms pressed together at the center of my chest. Anyone would think I was doing yoga—that was my intention, anyway—but my mind couldn't stay focused. I inhaled deeply and started over. I had to calm my nerves for the atrocity I was about to commit.
My phone suddenly rang, displaying an unknown number. I knew who it was: the people who had kidnapped my mother.
I answered, and a male voice echoed from the other end.
"We sent you the photos this morning. Haven't you seen them?"
"I did, but I just wanted to wait a little," I replied in a low voice, even though all I wanted was to kill them.
The caller broke into sarcastic laughter.
"How long do you want to wait before you post it? Seven days? Or until we drop your mother's corpse on your bed?" he asked, his voice sharp with anger. "Now listen to me, and listen good: within the next hour, I want you to post the photos we sent you, or we will kill your mother. Maybe we'll send you your mother's photo and ashes," he warned.
Tears flowed freely from my eyes as I tightened my grip on the phone. "Please don't hurt her. I'll do as you've asked. Please, she's the only one I have," I pleaded.
"Then act fast!" the man retorted.
"Okay, but please, can I talk to her?" I pleaded, hoping they would allow me, but all my hopes came crashing down when he replied.
"No. When you're done, we'll call you."
Before I could reply, he ended the call. I couldn't help but break into uncontrollable tears. I never wanted to do what they had asked.
I tried to concentrate and continue my yoga, but each time I attempted it, the video of my mother tied up resurfaced in my mind. I had to do something.
The worst part was that I was carrying this burden alone—my younger brother knew nothing about what was happening. Frustrated, I gave up trying and focused on my laptop.
Everything around me seemed to slow down, and my breathing became difficult. They had sent me the photos in the morning, but I had waited until evening.
At first, I thought the subject would be someone popular but not powerful. But the people in the photos were both popular and powerful, particularly the man they wanted me to post about: Eric Sloan and Damien Avery. I was supposed to accuse both of them of being gay—not to save just anyone, but to save my mother's life from the hands of unknown kidnappers.
The thought of my mother gave me the courage to open my blog page. I started a new post:
**POPULAR MULTI-BILLIONAIRE AND HEIR TO THE SLOAN GROUP OF COMPANIES, ERIC SLOAN, IS GAY**
One month ago, popular celebrity Bella Warner took responsibility for announcing the cancellation of her wedding to Mr. Eric Sloan, popularly known as the multi-billionaire. According to her, she claimed they had different interests and wanted to focus on their respective businesses. All questions asked were left unanswered.
However, it seems that Laura Karma, CEO of Karma's Blog, has found the truth we've been looking for. The wedding, which was scheduled to happen in six months, was called off because Eric Sloan is gay. You might be wondering who his partner is, but I've got you covered. His partner is his one and only friend, Damien Avery, son of the current prime minister, Louis Avery.
Below is the evidence attached to support this allegation.
I attached the photos they had sent me after typing as instructed. Even if they ended up killing me, at least my mother's life would be saved.
Without thinking twice, I published it and watched until the status showed it was live.
Within two minutes, it had over five thousand views. I immediately turned off my phone and laptop, heaved a deep sigh, and fell back on my bed.
Two hours passed. Then I decided to turn on my phone while waiting for their call. They called thirty minutes later and handed the phone directly to my mother.
"Lala," my mother addressed me by my nickname, her voice sounding very weak.
"Mom, are you okay?" I asked, even though I knew what the answer would be.
"No, but I'll be okay if you tell me that you're fine. They said you did as they asked—I hope it won't get you into trouble?" My mother's voice was laced with worry. I could feel the pain deep down.
Giving a bitter smile, I replied, "No, Mom. I'll be fine."
"One more minute!" I could hear the kidnapper shout in the background.
"Okay, Lala, I hope you're taking care of Larry. If he asks, tell him I'm alright. He's a medical student, and I don't want him worrying and getting distracted." My mother sniffled, breaking my heart even more.
"Yes, Mom. I'll take care of him. Just stay safe. I love you," I replied, trying as hard as I could to maintain my composure.
"I love—" my mother began, but before she could finish, the line went dead. I broke down in another fit of uncontrollable tears.
Bracing myself to open my laptop again to check how the public was reacting to the news, I could see different hate comments about Eric circulating everywhere. Everyone was talking.
More photos of him and his best friend had surfaced online and were being tagged with:
- The couple we never saw coming
- Welcome to the LGBTQ community
- #LoveDoesNotSelectGender
Of all the comments and hashtags that filled the comment section, two drew my attention: One was from Robes, a big podcasting channel.
Miss Laura, we would love to have you in our studio tomorrow if possible.
The other was from Bella Warner.
Thank you for helping me.
Why would Bella be thanking me if the allegation was true? And what the hell would I say on the podcast? Worst of all, the two people I was forced to accuse had remained silent. Something within me told me this was the calm before a big storm.