Steven quickly stepped forward to shake hands with the arriving officers.

"I'm a fellow officer. I'm just here to check on Thomas's little sister," he said casually.

It was only then that I noticed he was dressed in plain clothes. The moment he reached the doorway, he tried to slip away.

However, the two officers blocked his path with firm resolve.

I rushed to explain the situation.

"Officers! My parents really have been kidnapped! I have a recording as proof!"

The phone call I had specifically recorded finally came in handy. As the kidnapper's voice played, Steven's face turned ghostly pale.

"But Thomas said it was all an act…" he stammered. "He said you staged this whole thing yourself!"

I let out a cold snort, unwilling to waste my breath arguing.

Unfolding the crumpled paper in my hands bit by bit, I pieced together fragments of hazy memories from my past life. Carefully recalling every minute detail, I quickly sorted through my thoughts and came up with a plausible explanation to provide the officers with a lead from that previous life.

"Officers! I remember seeing the suspects near my house before. Their voices sound very similar… They even asked me for directions once, though I can't be entirely sure."

The police wasted no time setting up sketch artists and surveillance equipment.

I concentrated fully, describing every feature of the two kidnappers.

Before long, a comparison with a database of prior offenders yielded results.

They were two young men who had served time for robbery. One of them had even used his real name to rent a house. The police immediately organized a rescue operation.

Sinking into the sofa, I felt as though I had been pulled out of a pool—cold sweat drenched me to the bone.

Twenty minutes later, the officer accompanying me received an update.

"I'm sorry, Wendy," he said. "We didn't find your parents at the scene. But we did find this."

In the kidnapper's home, they had discovered numerous surveillance photos—not just of my parents but also of me.

"They've been watching you for a long time. Don't worry; these two won't get away," the officer reassured me.

My mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. The very thing I feared most had happened—the kidnappers had moved my parents to another location.

This meant that all the clues I had painstakingly gathered were now useless.

Off to the side, Steven was on the phone with Thomas.

Even though he tried to lower his voice, I could still hear every word crystal clear.

"It's a real kidnapping. They already have suspects. You should come back…"

From the other end of the call, Thomas's laughter rang out—mocking, indifferent.

He spoke as though he intended for me to hear every word.

"Just stop, will you? The bigger the scene you make, the harder you'll fall. And when Mom and Dad disown you for embarrassing them, don't come crying to me…"

A surge of anger and bitterness from my past life overwhelmed me.

Even if he despised me, the sister his family had only recently found, how could he still be so blind in a situation like this?

I had done nothing wrong. Neither had our parents.

The son they had doted on and cared for meticulously for over two decades now prioritized his adopted sister over their safety.

How devastated would they feel if they knew?

The thought of their misplaced trust made my heart ache on their behalf.

As I wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes, the house phone suddenly rang, its shrill tone piercing the room.

The officer in charge of surveillance gave me a quick glance.

My heart began pounding wildly.

The kidnappers were calling again!

The officer monitoring the call gave me an "OK" gesture. My hands were trembling as I picked up the receiver.

A nearby officer held up a card with a reminder. [Stall for time.]

I took a deep breath, but my voice still quivered as I spoke, laced with a desperate sob. "I'm getting the money ready. Please, I beg you, don't hurt my parents."

The kidnapper's sneering laugh crackled through the line. "Then move faster! You've got one hour left. I told you—if you're late, I'll kill them!"

Another card was pushed toward me, urging, [Ask about the drop-off location.]

"Where do I take the money? And after I drop it off, where can I meet my parents?"

The kidnapper's irritation was obvious. "Put the money in a locker at the station. As for your parents, you don't need to worry. Once we get the cash, they'll be back with you."

My temples throbbed violently. Even the ransom location was different from what had happened in my past life. Struggling to mask my panic, I tried to keep the conversation going, giving the officers time to trace the call.

"Can I hear my parents' voices? Just to know they're okay," I pleaded.

The kidnapper spat out a curse. "You're so damn needy."

After a brief silence, I heard my parents' voices.

"Wendy," my mother said weakly, "finding you again was our greatest blessing. We have no regrets in this life. Don't take risks for us. Keep yourself safe. That's all we ask. I want you to know that your father and I love you more than you know. We've always wanted to make up for lost time, but we didn't know how…"

Then my father spoke, his words laden with guilt, "Darling, I've regretted every day since we lost you when you were two. If I see you again, I'll apologize to you in person…"

I tried to respond, but my throat was so tight with emotion that the words caught. I wanted to tell them I didn't care about making up for anything—I just needed them safe. If they could hold on a little longer, I'd save them.

Before I could speak, the kidnapper shifted the phone abruptly. I heard a sharp kick, followed by muffled curses. "Shut up, you old fools. Rich people really are so dramatic! And you," he barked into the phone. "get the money here fast, or don't expect them to come back in one piece."

The line went dead.

Everyone in the room turned to me, their faces grim. One officer shook his head. "We couldn't trace the location," he admitted. "They used tech to block the signal."

The crushing weight of fear and anxiety returned, leaving my thoughts in disarray. One thing was clear—the money had to be delivered. It was the only way to keep my parents alive.

I grabbed my phone and called Joseph, as he had promised to help me raise the ransom. But no matter how many times I dialed, the call wouldn't go through.

On my umpteenth attempt, my phone buzzed. My stomach dropped when I heard Thomas's mocking laughter.

"Are you done with the act yet? Time to cut it out," he said smoothly.

My voice sharpened. "What did you say to Joseph?"

He didn't bother hiding his amusement. "Oh, just told him not to give you the money. Do you think two million is something anyone would hand over for a performance, no matter how convincing? I told him you're scheming, that the moment you came back to the Bells, you started plotting to drain the family's assets. He wasn't interested in your little charade after that."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Every ounce of hope I'd clung to vanished. My legs buckled, and I felt like a deflated balloon, completely drained of life.

Without that two million, my parents didn't stand a chance.

I had read about this case in my previous life. Those kidnappers had already committed murder before. They wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

If the money didn't reach them, they would kill my parents.

The phone rang again. The kidnapper's voice was sharper this time, every word slicing into my heart like a knife.

"If the money isn't here now, I'll kill them!"

An invisible force clenched my heart in a merciless grip.

Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead like raindrops. Every tick of the clock hammered against my chest, each second a tormenting reminder of the passing time.

I picked up the paper card with trembling hands, my lips quivering as I forced myself to speak.

"There's still time," I said, my voice shaky but desperate. "We're withdrawing money from different banks. The amount you're asking for is too much—it takes time to gather it all."

The kidnapper on the other end let out a derisive laugh.

"With an empire like the Bells, you mean to tell me you don't have this kind of cash on hand?"

I was so tense I didn't dare respond.

In those fleeting seconds of silence, something caught my attention—a faint, familiar sound in the background. It was the distinct whistle of a train.

The officers monitoring the call noticed it too, signaling for me to stall for more time.

"Let me hear their voices again," I pleaded, grasping at any opportunity to ensure my parents' safety. "I need to make sure they're okay."

The kidnapper's voice turned venomous, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Do you think you're some kind of princess? Everyone's supposed to cater to you? You've got thirty minutes left. No money, no parents. End of story!"

The line went dead, and with it, the time limit was cut in half.

Talking sense with these criminals was impossible.

The room descended into chaos as the officers scrambled to coordinate with banks, trying to secure the cash as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, I bit down hard on my lip and shut my eyes, replaying the final moments of the call in my mind.

I was sure of it—just before the call ended, I heard it—the faint yet unmistakable howl of wind, like a ghostly wail echoing through an empty tunnel.

Gripping the arm of the officer closest to me, I demanded, "Play back the recording. The last few seconds. Hurry!"

My urgency startled everyone, but they complied without hesitation.

As the recording played, the haunting sound of the wind emerged again, faint but clear. It was unmistakable.

I shot to my feet, my heart racing.

"I know where my parents are!"