I'm halfway down the street, wondering how on earth I'm going to find the Spanish g**g.
If I do, what happens then? I beg for my parents back?
What if the Spanish g**g aren't the kidnappers?
I exhale deeply, running my fingers down the space between my eyebrows to calm myself down. Whenever I was younger, Mum would stroke the exact same spot. It would calm me down instantly or make me fall asleep within minutes. I ached to have her affection back, no matter how old you get, you always need your mother.
The roaring of a bike catches my attention and I instantly duck, hiding behind a large bin. The roaring increases until it's directly next to me and then I hear the engine cut off. Without looking, I already know who it is.
"Ruby, come out."
"s**t," I mutter under my breath. I clench m
