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*Three Days Later, Christmas Eve*
Amy sat up in bed, her head propped up by an array of soft pillows. A bleakness the likes of which she'd never known gripped her in its iron clutches, and she felt completely and utterly helpless and useless.
All she could do was lay in bed. And as a very active, vital person - an *athlete* - that just about drove her insane. She got up onto to eat or use the bathroom, or to do small chores around the house. At times, when Adam caught her doing something, he would usher her back to bed and do it himself. She couldn't even help in the search for her daughter. It was horrible.
Christmas Eve was finally here, and neither she nor Adam were in a festive or celebratory mood. How could they be, when Mandy was still out there somewhere with Matt? Damn it, the little girl should be here - home with her family, playing with their dogs or her Barbie dolls or helping her to bake a cake, or beating her father in videogames. It just wasn't fair. She cursed Matt a thousand times over for taking her from everyone who loved her, from everything she loved.
And what about the baby she was carrying? She glanced down at herself in her nightgown, at her ever-growing belly, and gently placed a hand there. She could feel the baby moving around inside of her. He or she was a restless one - just like Mandy had been.
The redhead laid back again, closing her eyes. All she wanted was to fall back asleep so she wouldn't have to think about everything. No... Correction - all she wanted was her little girl back, safe and sound just in time for the holidays - and for everything to be normal and fine with the baby in her womb. She felt tears of hopelessness and frustration building under her eyelids.
Amy was suddenly jolted by the sound of the telephone ringing - this time, rather than a cell phone, it was the regular one jangling on the nightstand beside her.
Maybe it was the police...
... The redhead sat up more and reached for the receiver, tension still gripping her as she spoke.
"Hello?"
There was a beat of silence before the person responded.
"Amy... Merry Christmas Eve."
Her entire body froze. It was Matt. Once again, he was being awfully nervy.
"Matt... Where's Mandy?" she demanded. She could feel the quickening of her heart and pulse.
"Not gonna wish me happy holidays back?" he asked, feigning hurt. "That's not very nice."
Amy was gripping the receiver so tightly, her knuckles were white. Why was he doing this? Why did he have to take things so far to get "revenge" for his broken heart?
"I want my daughter!" she cried. She was through with trying to reason with him. He'd already had Mandy five days, so there was no point in it.
Hardy laughed on the other end.
"Now, Amy..." he said, his tone teasing, as though he were chastising a disobedient child. "... You know better than that. You can't always get what you want."
Tears began to stream down the redhead's face. As she spoke again, she hoped Matt wouldn't be able to tell she was crying.
"You son of a bitch... I *hate* you!"
There was laughter on the other end. Apparently, he found her hatred amusing.
"Have a merry Christmas, bitch!"
Amy realized she heard a click, and then the dial tone sound followed. Wanting to slam the phone down in frustration, she openly sobbed as she replaced the receiver on its cradle gently instead.
"Amy? Honey?"
Adam was home, and the sound of his voice only made her cry harder.
The blond man's face was flooded with concern as he appeared in the bedroom doorway. Instantly, he rushed to her side, ignoring the greeting Luger and Branny were trying to give him.
"Amy?" He sat on the bed, wrapping his arms around her for comfort.
"He called, Adam," she whimpered. "Matt called - just now. He *mocked* me."
"God damn it," Adam replied between clenched teeth. He held his wife tenderly as she continued to cry.