Trapped in the Heat

At that moment, Charles was expressionless, but I felt like the happiest person in the world. I had loved him for so long, but I was always in the background. I never asked for anything in return. I thought that this time, I had finally won his heart.

We married quickly and had Sally. I believed our life would be a happy, peaceful one. Then, one day, I found him staring blankly at his phone, tears streaming down his face.

I took his phone quietly and saw the news that shattered my world.

There had been a serious car accident; a woman and child narrowly escaped death. But her husband died tragically. In the photo, the woman, still with her long curly hair and delicate beauty, was unmistakably Chloe, whom we had not seen in years.

Charles tried to stay calm, but I could see through his facade. "I just feel bad for them," he said, his voice almost too casual.

In the days that followed, he became increasingly absent-minded. He forgot important dates—my birthday, Sally's vaccination appointment, and our wedding anniversary. It was unlike him.

Then, there were the changes. He started using cologne, which he had never liked before. He would style his hair meticulously with gel he previously detested. Our daughter even took notice of it. "Dad's getting more and more handsome," she said innocently.

A gnawing worry took root in my mind. It was a vague but persistent fear. The pieces fell into place when I saw them—Charles and Chloe—walking out of a hotel, hand-in-hand, looking like a couple in love.

My blood boiled. I charged forward and slapped Chloe across the face. Charles immediately stepped between us, his eyes blazing with anger. "We didn't do anything! Don't you touch her!"

I did not care about his protests, however. "Does Sally know?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Don't drag Sally into this!" he shot back.

"That's exactly what I want to say!" I retorted, my voice breaking. Sally was all I had left, and there was no way I would let anyone hurt her.

But Sally soon sensed something was wrong. She would ask, "Mom, where's Dad? Did I do something wrong? Dad hasn't smiled at me in ages."

I would just tell her that her dad had been super busy with work.

Thinking about my daughter made my heart race. I floored the gas pedal, feeling the car's engine strain, but I could not slow down. I had to save her.

I called everyone I knew in the city, pleading for help.

I would give up everything if I had to.

Without Sally, my life was meaningless.

Chloe was the key. Charles was with her child, so finding Chloe meant finding them. I did not have her contact information, but I remembered how Charles had been acting differently lately, especially around her.

I had checked his phone countless times but found nothing. Then, one day, I caught his reflection in the mirror as he dialed a number. He did not need to save her number—he had Chloe's number memorized.

I thought back to the day he stopped at a cake shop, insisting we buy a birthday cake. Sally and I were confused. "It's not our birthday…" I said.

He just stood there, looking lost. It dawned on me then—he hadn't forgotten our birthdays. His mind was just elsewhere, with someone else.

No matter what, Sally was still our daughter. I had to find her.

It was 43 miles to our city. I pressed harder on the gas pedal, feeling the car lurch forward. I called the traffic department, the information services, the fire department—anyone who could help track Charles' car.

Every second felt like an eternity, and my daughter's terrified cries echoed in my mind.

I prayed that my darling daughter would be safe.

I kept redialing her number, praying she would answer.

The highway ahead seemed endless, and bad news just kept coming.