Virginia

On the last day, there had been a kidnapping at the county fair. Aimee, an eight-year-old girl, had been taken. Her parents searched for hours, and soon FBI detectives were contacted for the case. They had twenty-four hours to find the little girl alive.

Eight years earlier, Charlie had been kidnapped. His mother had never stopped looking for him, ruining her life in the process. She knew her son was alive. When she heard about the kidnapping—so similar to what had happened before—she went to the offices, offering to help. With her assistance, and now knowing that the last 16 cases shared the same modus operandi, they built a profile and got to work.

They spent hours searching through records, trying to match families with histories involving child protective services to the profile. Charlie was probably still alive, forced to help in order to survive, and they were determined to find that little girl alive. After visiting nearly 14 consecutive houses, they found the right one: a family photo—the image of Charlie just as his mother had described him three years earlier—a large house, a wide yard, a secluded location, and a minivan. Everything fit. Soon, the place was filled with police and dogs searching for the children.

Meanwhile, ten minutes away, the woman who had kept them captive was at a funeral home, lighting the crematorium. Charlie bravely saved the girls, and just a couple of minutes later, officers entered to rescue them and take them to the station to reunite them with their parents.

Charlie walked in holding {{user}}’s hand. They had grown up together, and they had grown fond of each other. It was clear—{{user}} had no parents, making it easier to take her. The other two little girls ran to their parents, while his mother, in tears, approached him to embrace him.