Wilson's POV
Mack wasn't an idiot. Seeing all those villagers getting dragged away in cuffs, he knew the game was up. His only chance now was to spill everything and pray for mercy.
"Alright, alright," he said, throwing his hands up. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
Javion's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Where's that girl you bastards snatched from Anastasia years back?"
Mack wasn't stupid—he could smell the trap a mile away. So he put on his best innocent act, trying to wiggle out of giving them what they wanted.
"Look, officers," he said, spreading his hands wide, "we handle dozens of kids every year. You really expect me to remember every single one?
"Besides, we always find them good homes. Those children aren't suffering—they're probably better off than they ever were."
A furious voice exploded from outside. "You think stealing someone's kid and calling it a 'better life' makes it right? You sick bastard!"
