Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 197

“Stop!” Theodore shouted, his voice tight with panic as the blade caught the sunlight, glinting dangerously.

“Changed your mind?” sneered the man in gray, grinning with twisted delight. “Want us to let your little sweetheart go first?”

Agony flickered in Theodore’s eyes as he looked at Emma.

Emma, on the other hand, seemed almost serene. She gazed at him, then at the floor, where sunlight poured in through the windows, spilling golden across the tiles.

“Let’s make this more interesting and help you decide,” the man in gray laughed, a cruel sound. “Whoever we untie last, well, we can’t promise our knives won’t slip.”

“What do you mean?” Theodore demanded, fury and fear warring in his voice.

The man in gray threw his head back and laughed again. “It means that by the time we get to the second one, our hands might be shaking, and maybe we’ll just accidentally scar that pretty face…”

Both captors pressed their knives against Emma’s and Cecilia’s cheeks, cold steel grazing skin.

Theodore’s gaze darted frantically between the two women, his anguish plain.

Cecilia, normally so quick with a retort, was now as white as a sheet, too terrified to even speak.

“Hurry up!” snapped the man in yellow, impatience sharpening his words. “We don’t have all day! Don’t tell me you’re stalling for time and calling the cops, Theodore Whitman?”

“I’ll count to three. If you haven’t decided, we ruin both their faces!” the man in gray threatened, and began counting fast. “One, two, three—”

“Let Cici go!” Theodore’s voice exploded, raw and desperate, before the last word was out. The sound echoed through the building, ragged and shattering.

For a heartbeat, everything went silent. Then the man in gray cackled, the others joining in, all of them wild with excitement.

The kidnappers were thrilled by their little game; Julian fumed at his son-in-law’s choice, and Theodore was left gasping for breath, looking utterly broken.

Only Emma remained calm, almost detached.

She’d known what the answer would be. There was nothing left to feel.

Really, Theodore, you made your choice yourself. Why the heartbreak? Why the agony? I’m the one in danger, and even I’m not falling apart…

“Theodore…” he choked out her name, as if someone was squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Emma, I’m sorry I was late!” Sebastian shouted, racing across the net, Emma clinging to his back.

“No, you’re right on time. Thank you.”

There was no time for pleasantries or reunions. Right now, escape was all that mattered.

Sebastian sprinted, adrenaline pumping, until they reached the side of the next building where a car was waiting.

He helped Emma into the passenger seat, then jumped in himself, starting the engine. The car roared to life and sped away.

They drove fast and far. Emma didn’t ask where they were going; anywhere was safer than where they’d been.

Finally, Sebastian pulled up outside a hotel. “Emma, do you want to get a room, take a shower, get some rest? I’ll go buy you some fresh clothes.”

Emma had just survived a kidnapping. When that knife was pressed against her face, her calmness was less bravery and more a kind of numb resignation. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid.

She was scared—not of dying, but of what would happen to her grandmother if she didn’t make it through.