Ben POV
At exactly 7 AM, I drove the black Jeep out of the garage where I had packed it last night. I drove to my co-worker's apartment to pick them up before we drove to the hotel. Every mile that brought me closer to The Austerlitz Hotel felt like a mile deeper into a grave I was digging for myself. The morning sun was a lie; it felt like I was driving through midnight.
My mind was a prison, and Stanley’s voice was the warden, replaying the plans he had carefully strategized to kidnap Jennifer.
“You’ll be driving one of the cars,” Stanley had snarled during that last, terrifying visit in the prison. “When you get to that lonely stretch of the road on the way to the church, you pretend the engine’s failed. You pop the hood.”
“Stanley, it’ll be impossible,” I’d argued, a last, feeble
