It's Your Mother

1
My mother was kidnapped.
The deranged kidnapper was live-streaming an auction for the couture silk gown she was wearing, a piece worth millions.
I frantically called my husband, the CEO, but his voice dripped with sarcasm.
First, you have my sister faking a heart attack. Now, you're staging your own mother's kidnapping.
"Fine. Let's see what happens. Let's see if she gets stripped naked in front of the entire world when you have no money to save her."
His little canary coughed softly in the background, and he hung up on me without another word.
But I never got to tell him:
"The one who was kidnapped… it's your mother."
The call came from the police. My mother-in-law had been taken.
Seven months pregnant, I rushed to the station just as the kidnapper started his live stream. The moment I saw the elegant, custom-made silk gown, I knew. The woman on the screen was my husband’s mother, Eleanor.
The kidnapper, his face hidden by a mask, stared into the camera with cold, dead eyes. "The bidding for the dress on this old bitch starts at five million," he snarled. "If no one pays in thirty minutes, I'll strip it off her myself, live for all of you to see!"
My body trembled with fury, and a sharp pain shot through my swollen belly. A female officer steadied me. "Mrs. Vaughn, please try to stay calm. Your mother-in-law was last seen in the West End district. We have units searching everywhere."
Forcing myself to breathe, I fumbled for my phone and called my husband, Dean. He rejected the call twice. The third time, he answered. Before he could speak, I choked out the words.
"Dean, Mom's been kidnapped. Some maniac is demanding five-point-two million in the next thirty minutes, or he's going to strip her naked on a live stream."
A long silence, then a contemptuous laugh. "First, you get my sister to fake a heart attack for attention, and now your mother gets kidnapped by a 'maniac'. Elara, could you possibly be any more pathetic?"
An officer took the phone from my shaking hand. "Mr. Vaughn, this is the police. We have credible information that the victim is your—"
Dean cut him off impatiently. "You hired a pretty convincing actor this time, Elara. You want money? Fine. Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe. Ten times, you touch your head to the floor. Then slap yourself thirty times."
I knew what this was about. Payback for the time his sister and I had cornered his mistress, Chloe, at a mall and called her out.
I opened a video call. I knelt before them, knocking my head against the cold floor until I felt the sting of broken skin, my own hand striking my cheek again and again. "Chloe, I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm the one who stole your place. I'm the pathetic other woman. Please, forgive me."
A smug, almost invisible smile played on Chloe's lips. "Oh, Elara," she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "You shouldn't have to do this. A mother's life is priceless. If you needed money, you could have just asked me. You didn't have to slander your own mom to trick Dean."
I ignored her, my tear-filled eyes locked on my husband. "I did what you asked, Dean."
A flicker of something dark crossed his face before he answered coldly, "You'll have the money in ten minutes."
I scrambled to my feet, wiping my tears, a wave of gratitude washing over me. But then Chloe's saccharine voice piped up. "Oh, Dean, honey, look at that gorgeous emerald bracelet. It's only five-point-two million…"
Panic seized me. I looked at Dean, who hesitated, his gaze falling on me.
Chloe feigned generosity. "Oh, never mind. Elara obviously needs the money for her mother. I just hope this is all some silly joke, or her poor mother will really suffer."
At her words, Dean’s expression turned to ice. He looked at me with profound disappointment. "See how considerate Chloe is? And then there's you. You'd stoop to anything for attention. It's nauseating."
"You won't get a single dime." He turned his attention back to the woman in his arms, his voice softening. "Anything you want, Chloe, I'll buy it for you."
I snatched the phone back, but he had already hung up. When I tried to call back, the line was busy.
In desperation, I called everyone I knew. I scraped together every penny I had, but I was still short. With only minutes left, I transferred the five million I had to the kidnapper's account.
On the live stream, the kidnapper checked the transfer. His face twisted in rage. "You bitch! You think you can play me?"
He lunged forward, ripping the priceless silk gown from my mother-in-law's body and throwing it to the ground. Eleanor’s frail body was exposed to the world. The comment section flooded with vile, disgusting remarks.
Hearing her muffled sobs, I requested to join the stream. "Please, don't hurt her!" I begged. "I'll get the rest of the money, I promise!"
"Ten more minutes," the kidnapper roared. "Or I'll do more than just strip her. You'll get a real show!"
Just then, Dean’s sister, Isabelle, burst into the station. Hearing the kidnapper's threat, she clutched her chest. "Elara, call him now! Get Dean to send the money, or Mom is going to be killed!"
I shakily dialed his number again. He picked up, his voice dripping with venom. "Are you deaf or just stupid, you bitch? How many times do I have to tell you not to bother me when I'm with Chloe?"
Isabelle grabbed the phone, her face pale. "Dean, it's Mom! She's been kidnapped! If you have a shred of decency, you'll get here now!"
"Isabelle, this little trick wasn't interesting the first time," he sneered. "It's even less so now."
Isabelle aimed the phone's camera at the live stream monitor. Dean's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell? I thought it was Elara's mother?"
Isabelle was so pale she looked translucent. I quickly gave her the emergency heart medication from my purse. After a moment, she exploded. "Open the live stream yourself, you bastard, and use your goddamn eyes! Mom is kidnapped, and you're off with that whore? If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you!"
Dean hesitated, but Chloe covered his phone with her own. "Dean, honey, your mother just sent me a text ten minutes ago."
He glanced at her screen, then looked back at us, his eyes cold. "Fine. You want a show? I'll give you one."
A deep sense of unease settled in my gut. A moment later, Dean joined the kidnapper’s live stream.
"I'll give you ten million," he said, his voice chillingly calm. "Break her legs."
The entire police station fell silent. The kidnapper's eyes gleamed with greed. A metal pipe flashed across the screen, followed by Eleanor's agonized groan.
Isabelle’s heart gave out. She collapsed, and paramedics rushed her to the hospital.
"You bastard!" I screamed at the phone. "That's your mother in there! Call her right now if you don't believe me! See if she answers!"
Dean froze, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But Chloe leaned in and whispered something in his ear. His expression hardened again. "How much did you pay these actors, Elara? I don't have time for your games."
A man who had been at the station on other business couldn't take it anymore. He snatched my phone. "Listen, kid," he said angrily, panning the camera around the busy police station. "Your sister just had a heart attack, your mother's been kidnapped, and you're sitting there accusing them of playing games? I don't care if you think it's real or not. When it's your own mother, you show up!"
The stranger's words seemed to get through to him. But then the kidnapper spoke again. "New offer! One million, and you can have the old hag delivered to your door."
Dean was about to speak again when Chloe tugged on his arm. "Dean, he's right. Maybe you should go check. We can… reschedule."
He squeezed her hand, his gaze on me filled with loathing. "Don't get too greedy, Elara. You might choke on it."
"Even if it's a trick, you have to come back, Dean!" I cried, clutching my stomach. "Don't forget I'm carrying your child!"
Chloe's face went white, and she turned away, sobbing quietly. The veins on Dean's forehead bulged—a sign of impending rage.
"You want to play?" he hissed. "Let's play."
He reconnected to the stream. "Another ten million," he said, his voice flat and dead. "Break her arms. And take off the rest of her clothes."
The kidnapper, ecstatic, swung the pipe again. The gag in Eleanor’s mouth fell out, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream of pure agony.
Dean shuddered, a look of dawning horror on his face. But then Chloe collapsed into his arms, whispering with her last ounce of strength, "Go home, Dean… don't worry about me…"
"Elara," he roared into the phone. "If anything happens to Chloe, I will make you wish you were never born!"
The video feed cut out. I staggered back, my world spinning. A few minutes later, police swarmed the location on the live feed. The kidnapper was apprehended.
Seeing Eleanor being carried out on a stretcher, the world went black.
I woke up in a hospital bed three days later. The nurses told me Isabelle had survived. Eleanor's arms and legs were broken, but she was stable. She would be bedridden for the rest of her life.
And Dean? He'd rented a helicopter to shower Chloe with cash in a grand public gesture and had leased a private island for her.
My hand went to my aching stomach, a cold dread seeping into my bones.
When I went to see Eleanor, her eyes were empty, the vibrant spark she once had, gone. Only when she saw me did a flicker of life return. I walked to her bedside, and tears streamed down her face.
"Elara," she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. "This is karma, isn't it?"
"When I found out that worthless son of mine had fallen for that manipulative girl, I drugged you both. It was the only way I thought you could have a child and save your marriage. I thought if you were married, the love would come later. I never imagined he was such a monster."
"Do you hate me, Elara?"
I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Of course not, Mom. I know you were trying to help."
She nodded, a small, sad smile on her lips. "I know you're a good girl. If you ever decide to leave… just come tell me you're safe."
Her voice became distant. "Your father-in-law and I never had a proper wedding. When he passed, I had to raise the children alone. If… if I go one day, I want you to give me a wedding instead of a funeral. I want to wear a white dress and see him again, looking beautiful."
"Mom, don't talk like that!" I said, trying to sound angry. "You're going to live a long, long life."
She didn't seem to hear me. "And remember," she said, her voice turning to steel. "I never want to see that bastard son of mine again."
She started coughing, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"Doctor!" I screamed. "My mother is spitting up blood! Help!"
Eleanor was rushed back into emergency surgery. I sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. Isabelle and her husband arrived, and I looked up at them, lost.
"How is she?" Isabelle asked.
"It's bad."
The light above the operating room door went out. The doctor emerged, his face grim. "She lost the will to live," he said, shaking his head. "During the procedure, she bit her own tongue. By the time we could stop her… she was gone."
Isabelle fainted.
Two days later, I posted the full story online, including Eleanor's final wish. The public, moved by her tragic story, organized to attend her service and pay their respects. On the third day, I used my life savings to rent out the ballroom of a five-star hotel.
On the day of the funeral, just as promised, hundreds of strangers came to honor her. And, of course, Dean showed up, with Chloe on his arm.
He saw me in my white maternity gown and sneered. "Desperate to get married, are we? Not even divorced yet and you're already moving on to the next guy. You really are pathetic."
He was completely oblivious to the looks of disgust from the crowd. A group of volunteers formed a protective line in front of me.
"Dean," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I've already sent you the divorce papers. You are not welcome here. Leave. Now."
He looked stunned, as if he'd never seen this side of me before. His chest heaved. "Who the hell do you think you are to divorce me? You're going to carry my child and marry someone else? Did you ask my permission?"
"Did you ask my permission before you got a mistress?" I shot back. "Did you ask for the truth before you paid to have your own kidnapped mother tortured and humiliated? Did you ask if your sister's heart was stable before you sent her into cardiac arrest for the second time?"
He was speechless, staring at me. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm done with you, Dean. I hope you and Chloe are very happy together. I hope you're chained to each other for eternity."
A flicker of panic crossed his face. "Elara, what do you know? What did you do to my mother and my sister?"
I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "I don't have time for this. If you want the truth, ask the woman standing next to you."
A venomous look flashed in Chloe's eyes before she burst into tears. "Dean, honey, I've been with you this whole time! You know everything I've done!"
The crowd was stunned by her instant waterworks. One woman finally snapped. "That little act might work on him, but if it were me, I'd slap her face off!"
"Damn right!" another chimed in. "And Dean's no better! He drove his own mother to her death, his sister's still in the hospital, and he has the nerve to bring his mistress here to taunt his pregnant wife! Scum!"
"We can't let him in! He'll ruin everything!"
Dean, hearing the whispers, turned red with rage. "Elara, after I go check on my mother, you and I are going to have a reckoning. You just wait."
He tried to pull Chloe away, but she resisted, looking around with a puzzled expression. "Dean, honey, why aren't there any pictures of the bride and groom? There aren't even any names."
He paused, finally taking in the strange decorations. Panic flared in my chest. "Get out, Dean! Take her and get out!"
The crowd echoed my command. Dean just laughed, a cruel, ugly sound. He snapped his fingers, and his bodyguards moved forward. "Today, I'm going to find out exactly what dirty little secret you're hiding in here."
The scene devolved into chaos. I tried to back away, shielding my stomach, but when I turned, Chloe was right behind me. Her hateful gaze was fixed on my belly. She smiled, then shoved me, hard.
I hit the floor. A warm, sticky wetness spread beneath me.
Someone screamed. "Blood! She's bleeding!"
The crowd parted. Chloe had fallen a few feet away, and was now sobbing. "Oh, Elara, I'm so sorry! I should have just let you push me! Then you wouldn't have…" She crawled towards me, grabbing my hand and trying to make me slap her.
Dean kicked me aside and rushed to Chloe's side. I stared blankly at the pool of red spreading on the marble floor. My only thought was: My baby is gone.
Dean's face was contorted with fury. "I'm tearing this place apart," he snarled. "I'm going to see what kind of trash you're hiding!"
His bodyguards held back the crowd. I was too weak to stop him. He and Chloe swept past me and into the ballroom. The crowd surrounded me, helpless, calling for an ambulance. I watched Dean’s retreating back and whispered, "I'm sorry, Mom. I couldn't stop him."
Dean stormed into the hall. The room was filled with white chrysanthemums, all surrounding a single white casket in the center of the room. Chloe gasped, clutching his arm. He remembered my defiant expression and shook her off.
"If you're scared, you can wait outside."
He waved for a bodyguard to take her away, then slowly walked towards the stage. With every step closer to the casket, the unease in his gut grew into a suffocating dread.
He reached the top, looked inside, and saw the face of the person lying there. He screamed and stumbled backward, collapsing on the floor.

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