Hour Twenty-Four
Dear William,
It’s been roughly twenty-four hours now since I was taken from Jessica’s beach house to my current undisclosed location. I’ve been drugged, and I am chained by my ankle to a stake in the center of the room. I was given a notebook and a pen in order to communicate with my captor by slipping notes underneath the door.
This letter has been hidden beneath the plywood floor, which if you’re reading it, you obviously know.
I don’t know where I am other than that it is dark and damp and smells like a wooded area. For obvious reasons, I will be careful of what I write in the event that these letters are found, but I also will not, in any way, censor myself when it comes to writing about my feelings for you or my family.
I am being kept in a room that is mostly b
