KAYLA
The mall was a nightmare of last-minute shoppers, screeching kids, and the endless loop of "Jingle Bell Rock."
By the time I finally finished buying the last of the toys for my eight years old daughter, my arms were aching, and my feet felt like they were made of lead. Being a single mom was a full-time marathon, but I couldn't complain. Not when I had my Adeline. My sweet little girl.
I stepped into the elevator, my heavy shopping bags clutched in both hands. It was packed. People were squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder, and I was forced toward the very back corner. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began its descent.
Barely three minutes later, the elevator jerked to a violent halt. The lights flickered and died, plunging us into a stifling, heavy darkness before the dim, red
