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involuntary groan of despair.
    " We need you to watch it with us. We need you to look for anything...”
    " No. I can't. I can't do it.”
    " We need you to look for mannerisms, speech patterns...”
    " I can't. I can't watch it.”
    " Your son is counting on you, Holly. You need to do this for him.”
    Her eyes lit with fire, her hands clenched in desperate fists of rage. "I CAN'T WATCH HIM BUTCHER MY SON!”
    Agent Grant's voice was even and tender. "He won't. It’s not like that.”
    A tear trickled down the side of Holly's nose as she gripped her gut. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I can't... I just can't.”
    " We’ve seen this before. He's just going to talk to you. He isn't going to hurt your son on the video.”
    The room was eighty degrees, yet she couldn't stop the shivering in her middle.
    " We'll let you leave if he does anything. I promise.”
    Holly rocked. The tears were flowing and she couldn't stop them. The thought of seeing that man with her son—what he would say. How could she watch it? How could they ask her to watch it?
    Officer McConnell interrupted. "We only have a few minutes.”
    Agent Grant lifted a hand to silence him. "You can do this, Holly.” She looked at her notepad. "Do this for Gabe.”
    Holly struggled to compose herself.
    " If you give in to your fear—he wins. Help us get this guy.”
    Anger boiled in Holly's heart. She wanted this man to pay for what he had done. She wanted to hurt him with her own hands. What kind of monster preys on little children? Who could slaughter a child?
    " Help us, Holly. Do it for Gabe.”
    She bit her lip and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Gabe needed her to be strong. If ever she had a reason to be strong, this was it. This was not a problem she could run away from. She sat up straighter, and, with the little strength she could muster, gave a firm nod.
    Officers flooded into the room, and a laptop was turned so all could see. One of the officers placed a small mounted camera in front of the laptop to record the message.
    Holly looked confused. Why? She thought. Why make me watch this if it’s going to be recorded anyway? Do these people lack the compassion to at least view it first, to shield me from the worst of it?
    After what seemed like an eternity, the black video box came to life on the screen. In the middle of a nondescript room stood a lean man wearing a white prom tuxedo with ruffles on the chest. His bow-tie was bright red and the jacket pocket had a handkerchief of the same color poking out. Dark black eyes peered at her through a white porcelain mask. The emotionless expression made Holly feel sure she was looking into the face of a cold and calculated killer. No sympathy, no remorse, only emptiness. The sight made her recoil.
    " This is not the first time we have spoken,” said the man in a digitally-effected voice.
    It was unlike anything she had ever heard in movies or on television. The sound sent tremors of terror through her bones.
    " I have told you before. You are not allowed to tape these broadcasts. You know what happens when you tape them.”
    Holly looked at Agent Grant with pleading eyes. "What happens when you tape them?”
    Grant held her hand up. "It's okay. He's bluffing.”
    " Am I bluffing?” said the man on the screen.
    Holly's eyes grew wide. "He can see us?!” Her hands shot toward the camera. "Shut it off! Shut it off!” She screeched.
    An officer grabbed her by the arms and held her back.
    " Shut it off! You're killing my son!”
    Grant reached out and grabbed the camera. "All right!" she said, with an intensity Holly had not yet seen in her. "All right," she said again, with less emotion. "But you need to watch! You hear me? You need to remember. Without that camera, we only get one chance...”
    " Yes,” said the man on the screen, "remember.”
    Officers scrambled in the background, searching for the wire tap, but Holly kept her eyes rooted on the screen.
    " I want you to remember,” said the