Dennis Williams definitely hadn’t expected to hear his little girl crying on the other end of the line.
His heart clenched. He immediately asked, “Lillian, sweetheart, don’t cry. Tell me—what’s wrong?”
Hearing his gentle voice, especially after Barbara Jones’s rough handling, Lillian’s tears just flowed harder. She sounded even more lost and upset.
Dennis figured she must’ve been really scared, so he didn’t push her. He just kept his voice calm and soothing. “Hey, Lillian, you’re a brave girl, aren’t you? I need you to take a deep breath and tell me where you are, okay? Don’t be scared. Daddy’s here. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His steady reassurance finally calmed her down. She sniffled, lips trembling, and managed a tiny, “Okay.” Then she told her dad what had happened, bit by bit.
“They brought me to this hotel and said I had to go to a party. That mean old lady wanted me to call someone else ‘mom’…”
Even though Lillian spoke slowly, she made sure to explain everything clearly.
Dennis’ jaw tightened as he listened, his eyes dark with anger.
—
Meanwhile, downstairs…
Camila Davis was frantically calling Lillian too, her face full of worry.
Sarah Brown hovered nearby. “Any luck? Did she pick up?”
Camila shook her head, frustrated. “It rang a few times earlier, but she never answered. Now it keeps saying the line’s busy…”
She was starting to panic, wondering if someone had taken Lillian’s smartwatch.
But the GPS still showed Lillian was in the hotel. The only problem was that security was blocking their way in.
Camila’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Lillian had just started to recover—what if the Smiths did something to set her back again? The very thought made Camila feel like she was losing her mind.
Just then, Walter Wilson rushed over, waving an invitation. “Let’s go. We’re getting in.”
Camila didn’t hesitate. She took off toward the entrance, and now that they had an invite, the hotel staff finally let them through.
As soon as they were inside, Camila was desperate to find Lillian. The front desk told them the banquet was on the eighth floor, but the bridal party was getting ready on the ninth.
Camila was already pressing the elevator button for the ninth floor when she was suddenly blocked by a pair of burly security guards.
“Hold it,” one of them barked. “Mrs. Smith’s orders—no outsiders on this floor. You need to leave. Now.”
VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start