I was kidnapped and the man who did it was my boyfriend. He told me he was taking me home to meet his parents and I believed him.

I followed him, unsuspecting, deep into the mountains. He thought once I entered, I’d never find my way out. What he forgot, however, was that I, too, was a child of the mountains. He might not know how to escape, but I did.

It had been a grueling semester. I was in the final stages of finishing my master’s thesis and a foreign company had just invited me for a job interview. Between schoolwork and preparing for the interview, life felt like it was finally moving forward.

But then my phone rang.

“Ring, ring, ring.”

The caller ID flashed Nathan Karson.

I picked up, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Hello?”

Nathan’s voice came through the line, warm and eager. “Baby. How about coming home to meet my parents. Let’s make things official—maybe even set a date for the wedding. What do you think?”

The suggestion caught me off guard. His family lived in another state and the journey would take most of the weekend. With my job interview scheduled for Monday, I worried about running out of time.

I hesitated. “I don’t know, Nathan. I have that interview on Monday. It’ll be a tight schedule and I’m afraid I won’t make it back in time.”

But before I could finish, Nathan cut me off. “Maya, don’t worry about it. We’ll fly there and back. I’ll make sure we’re home in time for your interview.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. Before I could object again, he hung up.

Moments later, a text from Nathan popped up on my phone.

[Maya, I’m a little short on cash for the plane tickets. Can you send me $50?]

I stared at the message, my frustration bubbling. If he couldn’t even afford the tickets, why was he so insistent on this trip? My desire to go dwindled further.

I typed a curt reply.

[Nathan, I told you I don’t want to go. I’ve explained before—I need to focus on my career right now. Can’t we wait until I’m more stable?]

But my message went unanswered.

The next morning, as I left my dorm, Nathan was waiting for me outside. He held a small bag in his hands, steam rising from the takeout containers inside. His scarf was frosted over from standing in the cold.

I ignored him, my frustration from his silence the night before still fresh.

“Maya, wait!” he called, rushing to catch up. “I just want you to meet my parents. Is that so wrong? Is work more important than us getting married?”

His words made me pause. My chest tightened with a mix of guilt and anger.

Nathan and I both came from small, rural towns. Life there was harsh—poverty was woven into the fabric of our communities. My own village had pooled resources just so I could attend college.

That’s why this job opportunity meant everything to me. It wasn’t just about my career; it was about proving to myself and my community that I could rise above the life we’d all been born into.

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” I said firmly. “But yes, right now, my career is more important than marriage. Can’t you just wait a little longer?”

I tried to walk away, but Nathan grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight.

“Don’t do this, Maya,” he said, his voice low and tense.

His eyes darted nervously to the growing crowd of students who had stopped to watch our argument. I could feel their curious stares burning into my back.

“Let go, Nathan,” I said, pulling my hand away, but his grip only tightened. The pressure on my wrist was sharp, making me wince.

For the first time, I noticed the flicker of something dark in his eyes—a hint of anger and desperation I hadn’t seen before.

And that was when I realized Nathan wasn’t going to let this go.

I turned around, exasperated, only to see Nathan dropping to his knees right in front of me. His face was pale, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Maya,” he pleaded, his voice trembling, “please come home with me. My mom doesn’t have much time left. She just wants to meet you before she…” He paused, his voice cracking. “Before she dies. Can’t the job wait?”

His dramatic gesture drew the attention of the students nearby. Their eyes darting between us like spectators at a play.

Nathan knew me too well—he was playing on my kind-hearted nature. I hesitated, caught between the weight of his plea and the silent judgment of the crowd.

I reached down to help him up, but he swatted my hand away, his expression growing more desperate.

“My mom really can’t hold on, Maya,” he said, his voice louder now, almost theatrical. “I promise, I’ll make sure you don’t miss your interview.”

I could feel the stares burning into my skin, the murmurs around us growing louder.

“Tsk, tsk. And she’s supposed to be a college student?” a woman whispered loudly. “How heartless! Her future mother-in-law just wants to meet her before she dies and she’s acting like this?”

“Exactly,” another chimed in. “Women shouldn’t even be so focused on careers. She should be staying home, raising kids, taking care of the family!”

The comments felt like tiny daggers, stabbing at my resolve. Why should I have to justify prioritizing my career over meeting Nathan’s parents? I wasn’t even married to him yet!

I forced myself to block out their words and looked directly at Nathan, still kneeling on the cold ground.

“Can’t your mom wait a few days?” I asked firmly. “I have an interview on Monday.”

Nathan hesitated, just for a moment and I caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Either I go after the interview, or I don’t go at all,” I said, standing my ground. “And if that’s a problem, Nathan, maybe we should just break up.”

My words hung in the air like a challenge and Nathan visibly panicked. He glanced around at the crowd, his face turning red with embarrassment.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice subdued. “We’ll go after your interview.”

With that, he stood up and stepped away to make a phone call. The crowd, sensing the drama was over, slowly dispersed.

From a distance, I could see Nathan’s apologetic expression as he spoke into the phone, probably explaining the situation to his mother.

***

With the trip postponed, I focused on my interview preparations. The day before we were set to leave, I received the travel details Nathan had arranged. My heart sank when I saw the ticket information: a 56-hour train ride in a hard-seat coach.

I sighed. I’d endured worse journeys before. Growing up in poverty meant I’d learned how to make do, even if it meant sacrificing comfort.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take a plane or a high-speed train; I just couldn’t justify spending money I didn’t have on something so trivial. Every penny I earned through scholarships and part-time jobs was carefully allocated and I wasn’t about to waste it now.

As the departure date drew closer, Nathan became unusually clingy. He followed me everywhere, barely letting me out of his sight.

“Nathan,” I joked one evening, “you’re acting like a prison guard. What’s with the constant surveillance?”

He laughed nervously, but his eyes betrayed something darker. “I just don’t want you to run off. If you do, I’ll lose my future wife,” he said with a forced smile.

I brushed off his comment, assuming he was just being dramatic. After all, where would I even go?

***

The interview day arrived and thankfully, everything went smoothly. I had the job! My first day would be in two weeks. Elated, I returned to the dorm that night, ready to pack for the trip.

The following morning, before the sun had risen, Nathan and I arrived at the train station. The platform was a chaotic sea of people. We boarded the crowded train, settling into our cramped seats for the long journey ahead.

This was the first time I had traveled so far from home and despite the exhaustion from the journey, I couldn’t help but feel a little excited. The train ride was long, but I spent most of the time staring out the window, captivated by the passing scenery.

A full day and night passed, yet I still felt energized, my eyes glued to the vast mountains and dense forests outside. The towering trees and rugged terrain reminded me of home, though these landscapes were even more remote and imposing.

I couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to get lost here. The mountains all looked the same, the trees stretched endlessly toward the sky and the thick canopy blocked out the sun. Without a clear view of the horizon, you couldn’t tell north from south or east from west.

The only person I’d ever known who could navigate such terrain without getting lost was my grandfather. He had an uncanny ability to find his way out of any forest, no matter how unfamiliar. Aside from him, I’d never met anyone else who could do it.

***

After 56 grueling hours on the train, the journey still wasn’t over. We arrived in the city, but Nathan informed me we’d need to take a shuttle to a smaller county.

By noon, we were on the move again. I followed Nathan, lugging my bag as we boarded an old shuttle bus that rattled and groaned with every bump in the road. From there, the journey turned into a blur of transfers—another bus, then an ox cart and more modes of transportation than I could count.

Each leg of the trip chipped away at my patience. The further we went, the more I regretted agreeing to come. This place was just as remote as my own hometown, if not more so. If I had known it would be this bad, I wouldn’t have come at all.

Finally, as night fell, the ox cart stopped near a small, dimly lit village. Looking at the warm glow of the houses in the distance, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Is your house there?” I asked, pointing toward the village. “We’re finally here, right?”

Just as I was about to collapse onto a nearby rock, Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me back up.

“Not yet,” he said with a sheepish grin. “We still have to climb over that mountain. But don’t worry, by morning, we’ll be home in time for breakfast. I’ve already told my mom to expect us.”

His words hit me like a brick. Climb a mountain? Overnight?

The exhaustion from the trip was catching up to me and the thought of trekking through the dark wilderness was almost too much to bear.

I glanced back at the village. “Why don’t we ask someone there to let us stay the night? It’s too late to be wandering around out here. It’s not safe.”

I expected Nathan to agree—it was the obvious choice—but to my surprise, he shook his head.

“No, we can’t do that,” he said firmly. “We don’t know these people. Why would they let us stay overnight? Besides, my grandpa is already on his way to meet us. If we don’t show up, he’ll worry.”

His reasoning didn’t sit well with me, especially since I hadn’t seen a single sign of life on the trail. How had he even contacted his grandpa? There was no cell service here—not for me, at least.

The uneasy feeling I’d been suppressing started to bubble up.

“Nathan,” I said cautiously, “you’re not… planning to sell me or something, are you? My phone doesn’t have any signal, so how did you contact your family?”

The words were out before I could stop myself and I immediately regretted them. It was the realization that I might have been too impulsive, tipping him off to my suspicions.

Nathan burst into laughter, his expression one of amused disbelief.

“Maya, what are you talking about?” he said, grinning. “Why would I do something like that? My phone doesn’t have a signal either. I spoke to my family before we left and told them when we’d arrive. That’s why I’ve been pushing to keep moving.”

He paused, his tone softening. “Really, can’t we just keep going? My grandpa’s old and if he’s out here waiting for us and something happens to him, I’d never forgive myself.”

His sincerity disarmed me, at least for the moment. His mention of his grandfather reminded me of my own—how he’d always insist on walking down the mountain to meet me, no matter how late I came home.

I sighed, relenting. “Fine,” I said. “But we’re taking it slow.”

Nathan nodded eagerly, leading the way as I followed behind.

The mountain trail was overgrown, as if no one had walked it in years. The flickering light of Nathan’s torch barely illuminated the path ahead and the dense weeds made it impossible to see where we were stepping.

The unease I’d felt earlier hadn’t completely left me. Something about this whole situation didn’t feel right.

But for now, I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on placing one foot in front of the other.