A Kidnapper's Dream (Unedited)

The chill of the French night seeped into Jessalyn's bones, a familiar cold that mirrored the emptiness inside her. She sat on the edge of the Liveasea Fountain, its ancient stonework cool beneath her, watching her reflection ripple in the water. Her brown hair framed a face marked by scars, grim reminders of a past she desperately tried to forget.

Her nightgown, thin and unsuited for the late hour, offered little comfort. Above, a million diamond stars glittered, her only solace. This garden, near her grandparents' old house, was her sanctuary, the only place she was allowed to be.

Her thoughts, as always, drifted to the day Anthony Chellie had irrevocably altered her. And then, to the other, unspoken tragedy that still haunted her. She ran a hand over the burn mark near her throat, a physical manifestation of her suffering. Jessalyn yearned for release, even considering death, but fear held her back. Just as the wind picked up, swirling her nightgown and hair, a sudden sound pierced the night.

Her eyes, blurry with unshed tears, snapped open. Before she could react, a blindfold was pulled over them, plunging her into immediate darkness. A warm hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. Panic seized her as she was lifted, her weak struggles useless. She was being carried away, away from the only home she'd known, into an unknown fate.