No Ransom For My Fake Family

The salesman stood there, pen hovering over the paperwork, waiting for my final word. I pointed to the sleek, matte-black silhouette of the luxury sedan in the center of the showroom and said, "This is the one. I’ll take it."

Right then, my phone vibrated. It was my brother, Tyler. When I answered, his voice was a jagged mess of sobs and gasps, as if he were drowning on dry land.

He told me his two boys—my nephews—had been kidnapped. The kidnappers were demanding two million dollars in ransom.