The Bride Widow
Chapter 169: She vanished - Part 2

Chapter 169: 169: She vanished - Part 2

Anabella stepped forward, her voice hesitant but resolute. "Lucy went to report something to the police on my behalf. I’ve been receiving threatening messages, and she was worried about me. I think... I think her disappearance might be related."

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed Anabella’s words. The gravity of the situation became clearer, the fear that had been simmering beneath the surface now fully exposed.

Mrs. Carter’s eyes widened. "Threatening messages? What do you mean?"

Anabella took a deep breath, explaining the harassment she had been facing, the messages that had been sent to her phone, and how Lucy had decided to help her by going to the police. "I didn’t think it was that serious," she admitted, her voice quivering. "But now..."

The manager placed a comforting hand on Anabella’s shoulder. "It’s not your fault, Anabella. But we need to act fast. We’ll inform the police about this connection and see if it helps in their search."

The bakery staff, once immersed in the routine hustle of their work, now felt the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They all silently vowed to do whatever they could to support the search for Lucy.

The disappearance of their friend and coworker had turned what they thought was a simple case of absenteeism into a matter of grave concern.

______

Lucy’s eyelids fluttered open, her vision blurry as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls revealed a room that was unfamiliar and foreboding.

The air was damp and musty, the floor cold and unyielding against her aching body. Panic surged through her as she realized she couldn’t move; her wrists and ankles were tightly bound, the coarse ropes cutting into her skin.

She tried to shift, but the pain radiating through her body made even the smallest movements unbearable.

Her head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed with every heartbeat, and her throat felt dry and raw, as if she hadn’t had water in days.

A sense of dread settled over her as she recalled the last thing she remembered—leaving work to head home after speaking to Anabella.

"Help," she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, louder this time. "Help! Somebody, please!"

Her pleas echoed off the walls, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence. There was no response, no sign that anyone had heard her.

The only sound was the rhythmic dripping of water somewhere in the distance, adding to the eerie isolation of her predicament.

Lucy’s heart raced as she struggled against her bindings, but the ropes held firm. Fear threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to stay calm.

Panicking would do her no good. She had to think of a way to get out, to find help, but for now, she was trapped, alone and helpless.

______

Back at the bakery, the atmosphere was somber and tense. The usual warmth and bustling energy had been replaced by worry and uncertainty. The staff huddled together, exchanging nervous glances as they discussed what to do next.

The manager stood at the center of the group, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "We can’t just sit here and do nothing," she said, her voice firm despite the worry in her eyes. "Lucy’s been missing for days, and we have to take action."

Anabella, who had been quietly observing the conversation, stepped forward. "I’ll go to the police," she offered, her voice steady but laced with concern. "I can report Lucy as missing and give them any information they might need."

The manager nodded. "That’s a good idea. The rest of us can organize a search around the area, see if anyone has seen her or knows anything."

The staff murmured their agreement, each person ready to do their part to find their missing friend. Anabella quickly grabbed her coat and headed for the door, determination etched on her face. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucy’s disappearance was connected to the threats she had been receiving, and guilt gnawed at her, spurring her into action.

The police station wasn’t far, and Anabella walked briskly, her mind racing with thoughts of what she would say to the officers. As she reached the station, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping into the sterile, bustling environment.

Approaching the front desk, she caught the attention of a weary-looking officer. "I’m here to report a missing person," she said, her voice steady but urgent. "My friend, Lucy Carter, has been missing for a few days, and we’re really worried about her."

The officer nodded, pulling out a form and a pen. "Let’s get some details down. When was the last time anyone saw her?"

Anabella recounted the last time Lucy had been seen at the bakery and mentioned her worries about the messages she had been receiving, hoping that any bit of information could help.

As the officer wrote, Anabella felt a flicker of hope. They were taking this seriously, and maybe, just maybe, they could find Lucy and bring her back safely.

As Anabella finished giving her statement, the officer assured her they would start the search and keep her informed. She nodded, thanked him, and turned to leave the station. The cool evening air hit her as she stepped outside, offering a brief moment of relief from the tension she’d been carrying.

Just as she reached into her pocket for her phone to check the time, it buzzed in her hand. A message. Anabella frowned, unlocking the screen to read it.

"You’ve made a mistake."

Her heart skipped a beat. The message was from an unknown number, but its intent was clear—it was a warning, or perhaps a threat.

Anabella’s fingers trembled slightly as she re-read the words, her mind racing. Whoever had been sending her those ominous messages knew she had gone to the police.

Anabella’s breath quickened. She glanced around the darkened street, the shadows feeling more oppressive than ever.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket, her footsteps quickening as she headed home. Fear clung to her every step, the sense of being watched more intense now than it had been before.