As I turned on the news today, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I was about to see. A beautiful wife and mother of three gorgeous children had been taken from her home. The woman had vanished from her home without a trace, and nobody knew where she went or who was behind the disappearance. The only clue was typed note left on the kitchen island:

“This is what you get for taking my kids. Bring them back and Alex will be returned unharmed. “

Apparently the woman’s name was Alex, and she had taken someone’s children. I found myself starting to empathize with the kidnapper slightly, as I recently had my own kids taken from me. I could not fathom kidnapping an innocent mother, however, only a crazy person would do something like that, and I wasn’t crazy. I was perfectly normal, just another terrified member of the community. 

The rest of the week, everyone in town was shaken and on edge. Nobody went anywhere alone, especially not women or children. Schools would not let children go home to empty houses and companies gave parents time off to protect their children until whoever took Alex was brought to justice. My life went relatively unchanged, as I was single, childless, and worked from home as a computer programmer. 

More and more information came to be known about Alex and her family, such as what she and her husband did for work. Her husband, Shawn, was an architect who was working on building a bridge a few hours out of town, which left Alex on her own with the kids for a few weeks. Anna was a social worker employed by the county. She would run routine house calls after receiving anonymous tips from community members about children who may have been in unsafe situations.

The news anchors painted Alex as a hero, but I just couldn’t see it. Children were best taken care of by their own parents, in their own homes. All Alex did was take children away from the people they needed most. I was fully convinced that the media would’ve done anything to paint Alex as an angel put on Earth, for the sole purpose of guilting her kidnapper into bringing her back. But there was no way that would ever work. 

I was sitting at my desk, with my curtains drawn, working on a new program when I heard a confident, loud knock at my door. I hated being interrupted when I had just gotten into the groove of my code, it filled me with an insurmountable amount of rage. I slowly approached the door and looked through the peephole, where I saw an older police officer and a younger woman dressed in a pantsuit with a notepad and tape recorder. I opened the door, not knowing what to expect from these strange people who were standing on my lawn. 

“Good afternoon sir, I’m Officer Smith with the police department and this is my partner Detective Adams, we’re talking to everyone in the community trying to piece together Alex’s disappearance. Mind if we come in?” said the older gentleman. 

“Hi, good morning. Actually I do mind. I’m right in the middle of work,” I said. It was getting remarkably hot inside my house the longer I stood with the door open, my hands and neck even began to sweat. 

“Oh, I do apologize. It will just take a minute and we would really appreciate it,” said the detective. I thought again about my previous response, and decided to change my mind. I didn’t want to give the investigators the false impression that I had anything to hide or any reason to avoid speaking with them. 

“I suppose you may come in, but make it quick. I have lots to do before my deadline on Friday,” I said reluctantly. The investigators hesitantly entered my house and took a look around the small dark room, mostly covered with electronic equipment and empty pizza boxes I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up. “Please forgive the mess, it’s just me in the house and I wasn’t expecting company.”

The woman nodded and took a seat on the couch where I had directed her. I sat in my desk chair and spun around to face her and the police officer, who opted to stay standing. “So, first off I’d just like to ask if you ever personally knew Alex?” said the detective. She seemed mostly calm but had a very faint undertone of anxiety, which I guessed came with the job. 

“I think I’ve met her at social gatherings once or twice, we graduated high school only a few years apart and ran in the same group of friends. Nothing more than that though,” I said. Alex and I had never been close friends, but we had been acquaintances and I had observed her from afar throughout our time in school together. The police officer seemed pleased with my answer but the detective seemed reluctant to accept it. 

“Alright. Have you heard anything from anyone about Alex’s disappearance that you think might be pertinent to our investigation? Like disagreements or scuffles she’s been in recently? Anyone who might have motivation to harm her or her family?” said the detective. She asked the question with more emphasis on the family part, likely alluding to issues with her children, I assumed. 

“Well I haven’t heard anything specific, but I wouldn’t be surprised if people had issues with her. Her line of work isn’t always well received by parents. One of them might have it out for her,” I responded. I hoped I was being of some sort of help to their investigation, as I wanted them to get what they needed and get out of my house as soon as possible. I could hear some sort of rodent moving around in the basement that I was itching to go take care of. 

“That’s the main focus of our investigation thus far, the families of the children who she placed in the system. But it doesn’t sound as if you have much information that will be useful to us so we’ll get out of your hair. Here is my card, please don’t hesitate to call if you have any more information,” she said as she handed me a small blue business card with her picture and phone number on it. I stuffed the card into my back pocket and ushered them toward the door. 

“So sorry I wasn’t of more help, but I do wish you the best of luck with locating Alex. This disappearance has been a devastating event for our whole community,” I said. I tried to put on my saddest face, I didn’t want them to think I was some kind of psychopath with no emotion. That wouldn’t lead to a very good first impression. The detective and the officer walked out the door and I made my way down to my basement, hoping to find whatever animal had been making all that noise. 

“Hello Alex, how are you feeling today? I just got paid a visit from the police. Everyone is very worried about you,” I said. Alex was sitting in a small cage in my basement, with her hands tied behind her back so as to not let her escape. She had taken my children away from me and put them in the foster care system, so it felt only fair to lock her up in a place as vile as the one she had put them in. Maybe once my kids got to return home, she too would get to return home.