"It's agonizing to hear your own son cry, isn't it? Would you do whatever it takes to save him?" the shadowy figure's eerie, effeminate voice echoed once more.
Ms. Sutton collapsed to her knees, crawling blindly as she searched for the speaker. Her hands finally brushed against a pair of feet. Unsure if they even belonged to her interrogator, she clung to the fabric of the pant legs in a death grip. "Yes! Yes! I'll do whatever ya want, even if it costs me my life! Just let my boy go! Please don't hurt him!"
