The Green House loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the evening sky. I parked my car and ran towards the building, my heart pounding. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the sound of my frantic footsteps.
“Amber!” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty corridors. “Amber, it’s Mom! Where are you?”
A faint sound reached my ears, a soft whimpering. I followed the sound, weaving through the debris and broken walls. Finally, in a small, dimly lit room, I found her. Amber was huddled in a corner, her face streaked with tears.
“Mom!” she cried, and I rushed to her, pulling her into my arms. She was shaking, her body trembling with fear.
“Oh, Amber,” I whispered, holding her close. “Thank God, I found you.”
The Truth
Through her tears, Amber told me what had happened. She had been taken by a woman who lived in the house. The woman was mentally ill, living in isolation, and had seen Amber walking home from school. In her confused state, the woman had believed Amber was her own daughter who had been lost to her years ago. She had lured Amber into her house with a story about needing help and then kept her there, believing she was protecting her.
Amber said the woman was not violent, just deeply troubled. She had provided food and a place to sleep but had kept Amber from leaving, convinced that the outside world was too dangerous. Amber was not physically harmed, but she had been scared and confused, unable to understand why this was happening to her.
The Rescue
Continue Reading in next page
