TED'S POV.
THE PREVIOUS DAY
I jerk in the fleet, awake to the blaring ring of my phone. It is still dark outside, and the sudden noise had spooked me so bad that my heart was racing, and my breaths came out in short gasps. I struggle to catch my breath as I reach over to grab the phone from the bedside table.
I woke up to a pounding headache that felt like a sledgehammer was repeatedly slamming into my skull. It was as if a swarm of bees had made their hive in my head, and their incessant buzzing was driving me to madness. Each beat of my heart echoing through my brain, intensifying the pain to an unbearable level.
As I try to sit up, a wave of nausea swept over me, and I had to lie back down on the bed, clutching my head in agony. My temples throbbing with a dull ache that pulses with every breath I take and my eyes felt like they were bulging out of their sockets. It was as if my brain was struggling to escape from the confines of my skull, and the pressure was becoming unbearable.
I close my eyes, hoping that the darkness would alleviate some of the pain. But it was no use; my mind is consuming by the headache, and every thought was clouded by the overwhelming sensation of pain. It was as if my whole world had been reduced to this single, all-consuming ache.
I try to recall what could have cause this torment, but my memory is hazy and blurred. It was as if the headache had wipe out any trace of my past, leaving me stranded in a sea of pain. The more I try to think, the worse the headache become, and I am afraid that I would lose my mind if it continues much longer.
I lay there for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the headache to subside, but it showed no signs of relenting. I try to take deep breaths, hoping that it would help me relax, but it only made the pain worse. It was as if my body was rejecting any attempts at comfort, determined to suffer in its own misery.
Finally, I manage to swipe the screen and bring the phone to my ear. "Hello?" I croak, my voice hoarse from sleep and irritation. I waited for a few seconds, but there was no response. I frown, wondering if it was a prank call or a wrong number.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came through the phone, and I felt a mix of relief and annoyance. It was Beth she didn't have the habit of calling me at odd hours. "Hey, sorry to wake you up, but I need your help," she said, her voice urgent.
I answer the phone with a groggy voice, wondering who could possibly be calling me at this ungodly hour. I was spook by the sudden sound, and my heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to clear my head.
When I heard Beth's voice on the other end of the line, I felt a sense of relief mixed with annoyance. It was typical of her to call me at odd hours, and I couldn't help but wonder what could be so urgent that it couldn't wait until morning.
But as she begin to speak, her voice urgent and panicked, I know that something was seriously wrong. "I can't find Elle," she says, her words coming out in a rush. "I've looked everywhere, and she's not in the house."
My mind was still foggy from sleep, and it took me a moment to process what she was saying. But when the words finally sank in, a sense of dread settles in my stomach. Elle was Beth's younger sister, and I had known her for as long as I can think of. She was a sweet and innocent girl, and the thought of her being missing sent shivers down my spine.
"What do you mean you can't find her?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm despite the rising panic inside me.
"I woke up this morning, and she wasn't in her room," Beth explains. "I've searched the whole house, but she's nowhere to be found. I don't know what to do."
Her voice is filled with an unmistakable sense of panic that sent a chill down my spine. It was as if every word was lace with a primal fear that threatened to consume her. I could hear the desperation in her voice, and it was clear that she was on the brink of breaking down.
Her breathing is ragged and uneven, and each word seems to be forced out of her with great effort. It is as if she was struggling to keep herself together, and the mere act of speaking was taking everything she had.
As she speaks, her voice trembles with an unbridled intensity that I have never heard before. It was as if her very soul was quaking with terror, and each passing moment only serves to heighten the sense of impending doom.
I could hear the rapid beating of her heart over the phone, and it was as if each thud was a hammer blow to my own chest. It was clear that she is terrified beyond measure, and I know that I had to act quickly to calm her down.
But as I try to reassure her, my own voice falters, and I could feel my own sense of panic rising. It was as if her fear was contagious, and I was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it.
I could hear the fear and desperation in her voice, and it made my heart ache. I knew that I had to do something to help, but my mind was still foggy with sleep, and I struggle to come up with a plan.
"Ted, she's been kidnapped," she says, her words strained and desperate. "Someone took her from her room while we were sleeping."
My mind reeled at the thought of such a heinous act, and I could feel the fear and anger rising inside me. But I knew that I had to remain calm for Beth's sake, and so I spoke in a voice that I hoped would reassure her.
"Listen to me," I said, my voice slow and measured. "We'll find her. I'll be there as soon as I can, and we'll figure this out together. Just hold on, okay?"
I could hear the panic in Beth's voice as she tried to hold back tears, and it was clear that she was struggling to keep herself together. It was as if every word was a struggle, and I knew that I had to do something to help.
"Take a deep breath," I said, trying to sound soothing. "We'll get through this. Just stay calm, and tell me everything you know."
As Beth began to recount the events of the night, her voice shook with a raw intensity that was almost too much to bear. It was clear that she was on the brink of breaking down, and I knew that I had to be strong for her.
As she spoke, my mind raced with possibilities, trying to come up with a plan to find her sister. It was a race against time, and every passing moment only made the situation more dire.
But despite the sense of urgency, I knew that I had to stay focused. "I'm on my way," I said, my voice firm and resolute. "Just keep talking to me, and we'll find her."
As Beth continued to speak, my mind began to piece together the fragments of information she was giving me, trying to form a cohesive picture of what had happened.
I groggily stumbled out of bed, still reeling from the shock of Beth's phone call. My mind was racing, but my body felt sluggish and heavy, as if it was resisting any attempt to move.
But I knew that I had to act quickly, and so I forced myself to get up and make my way to the bathroom. The familiar surroundings of the small room provided a sense of comfort, and I began to feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
I turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it was hot enough, and then stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded down my body, washing away the remnants of sleep and providing a much-needed sense of rejuvenation.
As the water flowed over me, I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to clear my mind of any thoughts that might distract me from the task at hand. It was a moment of quiet contemplation, and I allowed myself to simply be in the moment, to feel the warm water and the cool tiles beneath my feet.
But as I reached for the soap, my mind began to race once again, as thoughts of Beth and her sister flooded my consciousness. It was a reminder of the urgency of the situation, and I knew that I had to act quickly if we were going to find her sister and bring her home.
I scrubbed myself clean, the rough texture of the soap providing a sense of physicality that helped to ground me in the present. It was a simple act, but one that felt almost therapeutic, as if by cleaning my body, I was also cleansing my mind.
As I stepped out of the shower, I felt a renewed sense of energy coursing through my body, and I knew that I was ready to face whatever lay ahead. It was a small victory, but one that felt significant, as if by taking care of myself, I was also taking care of Beth and her sister.
I dried myself off and scanned my closet for something appropriate to wear, my mind racing with thoughts of Beth and her missing sister. I knew that I had to be strong for her, that I had to project a sense of calm and confidence, even in the face of uncertainty.
After a moment's consideration, I settled on a crisp white button-up shirt and a pair of well-fitted black slacks. They were simple, classic pieces that conveyed a sense of professionalism and competence.
I slipped into my underwear and undershirt, then buttoned up my shirt with practiced ease, tucking it neatly into my pants. The fabric was cool against my skin, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of confidence and purpose as I dressed.
Next came my shoes, a polished pair of black loafers that clicked sharply on the hardwood floor as I walked. I made sure to double-check the laces, ensuring that they were tied tightly and securely.
Finally, I grabbed my jacket, a lightweight black blazer that added a touch of formality to my outfit. I slipped it on and adjusted the collar, taking a moment to examine myself in the mirror.
With a quick glance around the room, I made sure that I had everything I needed: my phone, my wallet, and my keys. Then, without hesitation, I turned and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
But as I reached the bottom of the staircase, my foot caught on the edge of one of the steps, and I stumbled forward, nearly falling headlong onto the hardwood floor.
I managed to catch myself at the last moment, my hand grasping onto the banister for support. I took a moment to steady myself, my heart racing with the sudden burst of adrenaline.
Once I was sure that I was steady on my feet, I pushed off from the banister and continued racing towards the door. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, the sound filling my ears like a distant drumbeat.
As I burst through the door, I was greeted by a blast of cold air, the chill seeping through my jacket and into my bones.