After the kidnappers threw Giselle off the bridge, they turned and bolted for their car, ready to make a run for it.
A series of deafening gunshots rang out. One of them was hit in the thigh, another took a bullet in the back and collapsed to the ground.
It was Gideon who fired in a fit of rage. He had been lying in ambush in the woods.
In the distance, the wail of police sirens grew louder.
The kidnappers didn't have time to drag away their injured accomplice. They jumped into the car and sped off down a side road to the right. In less than two minutes, they were gone from sight.
Donovan, however, had no mind to go after them. He stumbled out of the car and rushed to the spot where they had thrown Giselle. Gripping the railing, he leaned over the edge, his frantic eyes darting across the surface of the river.
Despite the earlier commotion, the river's surface lay still—no ripples, no trace of a body.
Donovan stared blankly at the river. He imagined her being swept away by the current... or already sunken into the depths... or gone forever, never to be seen again. He gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his body growing numb. His eyes burned.
Before long, Gideon came charging up with the men who had been hiding in the forest with him.
Compared to Donovan's restrained grief, Gideon was out of control. He scrambled to the railing, eyes wild as he stared down at the river, his whole body trembling. He muttered Giselle's name over and over, his voice breaking.
"No…" he choked out. "This is impossible…"
"Hurry up! Call the police now! Call 911! Find her now!" Gideon bellowed at his men, so frantic he nearly vaulted over the railing to dive in himself.
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