I Helped a Young Mom with Her Baby in a Grocery Store – Three Days Later, a Large Black SUV Was Parked Right Outside My House

He nodded like he expected it.

“You can take pictures,” he said. “Of me, my ID, the vehicle, the license plate. Send them to your family, your lawyer.

Whatever you need.”

That helped more than any words.

I took photos of his face, his ID, the SUV, the plate, the VIN number. Then I texted everything to my mom with one line:

“IF I DISAPPEAR, THIS IS WHY.”

Her reply started coming in immediately, but I shoved my phone in my pocket.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come.

But if this goes sideways, my son is very good with computers and very dramatic.”

Daniel almost smiled.

We drove for about half an hour. My neighborhood of cracked sidewalks and dented mailboxes faded into one of neat lawns and bigger houses. Then those turned into full-on estates.

Finally, we turned onto a long driveway lined with manicured hedges and old trees.

At the top sat a mansion.

Not a big house.

An actual estate. Stone pillars. Massive windows.

The kind of place where the echo probably has its own echo.

My stomach flipped.

“You sure this isn’t the fancy version of a kidnapping?” I muttered.

“I promise you’re safe,” Daniel said.

He parked and opened my door. I stepped out, suddenly aware of my cheap flats and thrift-store jeans.

A man waited at the top of the steps.

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