Two nights later, my phone alerted me at 3:17 a.m.
I opened the live feed.
Daniel was carrying the black bag.
He unlocked my mother’s bedroom and disappeared inside.
Minutes later, I heard her crying.
“Please, Daniel. I can’t do this again.”
His voice was firm.
“Grandma, we have to finish it before Mom finds out.”
Then came a sound I will never forget.
My mother screamed.
“NO! DON’T OPEN THAT!”
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I called the police with shaking hands.
“My elderly mother is locked in her bedroom with my son,” I whispered. “She’s screaming. Please send someone.”
Then I grabbed my car keys.
I don’t remember driving. I only remember arriving outside my mother’s house and seeing Daniel’s car in the driveway.
The front door was locked.
“Daniel!” I shouted, pounding on it. “OPEN THIS DOOR!”
A moment later, he appeared.
“Mom? What’s going on?”
“Where’s Grandma?”
