He had to act fast. Time was slipping away, and Mimi was still out there—frightened, alone, and surrounded by predators, both animal and human.
She wasn’t valuable to them—she wasn’t a phone or a wallet. What would they do once they realized that?
Tom forced himself to breathe, to think. He couldn’t let panic take over. But the very thought of what might happen if he hesitated chilled him to the bone.
The chatter of monkeys echoed through the trees, no longer playful, but eerie—like coded messages. Tom crept toward the building’s entrance, each step heavier than the last. The humid air pressed down on him, thick with tension.
Then, inside the dark interior, movement. Human movement.
Men emerged from the shadows, faces obscured by scarves and tattered clothing. Their eyes scanned the jungle with cold calculation, as if expecting trouble.
Tom ducked instinctively, heart hammering. There were at least six of them. These weren’t petty thieves. They were organized. Precise. Lethal.
The scheme was deeper than he’d imagined. The monkeys were bait. The tourists were the prey. And Tom had just walked right into the spider’s web.
His breath caught as one of the men muttered something and gestured toward the trees. Were they onto him? He crouched lower, his mind screaming one question louder than all the rest—Where is Mimi?
Was she inside? Locked in a cage? Left outside to wander? Or had they already gotten rid of her?
The monkey that took her could have thought she was a bag or toy—just another object to snatch. But when the men realized what she was—a living animal—would they discard her? Or worse?