They rolled my wheelchair toward the lake, whispering, “When she drowns, the eleven million is ours.” What they didn’t know was that I could swim — and a hidden camera caught everything.

Choosing Survival Over Shock

I didn’t cry.

Fear transforms into something colder when your own child tries to kill you.

I copied the video to a USB drive and tucked it into my bra. Then I lowered myself onto the gravel path and began dragging my body forward.

The ranger station was less than a mile away.

I had crawled farther in therapy.

Halfway there, voices.

Ryan. Ava.

“She might float up,” Ava said. “Bodies rise.”

“Then we find her first,” Ryan snapped.

They were hunting me.

I rolled into the brush and waited until they passed.

Then I crawled again.

—Continue reading…