It’s been 12 hours and 35 minutes since my brother went missing. It was snowing and dark, the moon barely a sliver in the sky. His footsteps faded out hours ago, but I couldn’t just stop looking. I should have listened to him. He told me he felt like he was being watched, but I thought he was paranoid. Why didn’t I listen? James had always been… strange. Did I snap? Whatever the reason, I needed to find him, and now. I remember reading somewhere on the internet that most kidnapping victims only last 24 hours before their bodies turn up. Which meant I had less than 12 hours to find him…