Forty Thousand Dollars Demanded to Bring Our Lost Daughter Home

“We need to know if you saw any strange cars on the county road last night,” I said, pausing to rub my left temple. “Someone left something in the sunflower patch.”

Vince set the pocketknife on the railing and stood up, his keys clinking against his belt. “I was in town until midnight. Did not see a thing but the mail carrier.”

“There was a box, Vince,” Clara said, her Southern drawl quiet but firm. “With a photograph of a girl who looks like Lily.”

Vince let out a short, dry laugh that did not reach his eyes. “You old people are going to get yourself scammed by some internet trickster.”

“The caller wanted forty thousand dollars,” I said.

Vince stopped tapping his keys, his gaze drifting toward the red plastic toolbox in his truck bed before settling back on me. “That is a lot of cash for a ghost.”

He gestured for us to come inside, the screen door catching on the frame as he pushed it open. The living room smelled of stale tobacco and damp carpet, the shades drawn to keep out the light.

Author

  • Andrew Collins is a contributor who enjoys writing about everyday topics, people, and ideas that spark curiosity. His approach is simple and conversational, aiming to make stories easy to read and relatable. Outside of writing, Andrew follows current trends, enjoys long walks, and likes turning small observations into meaningful stories.

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