Zita wanted to castrate him. How could he betray his daughter like that?
“What did the gang want with you?”
Teresa stared down at the table. “They wanted me for sex,” she whispered. “The gang has a group of girls, they call them their girlfriends, but they’re not really. They give the girls to men as a reward for a job well done and sometimes they sell them to men too.” Teresa clenched her fist.
Zita squeezed the girl’s hand.
“What happened when you went to the gang?”
Teresa glanced at David and then back to the lawyer.
“I can leave,” David said.
Teresa shook her head. “It does not matter. I will have to tell my story many times.” She took a deep breath. “The first day I was there, the man who started it all, the man who’d come to the laundry, forced himself on me. Then he gave me to his friends.” Her voice was dull, but she clutched Zita’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “After that, they sold me to men as punishment for refusing them at the beginning. I had to have sex with all of these men and if they complained about my response, I was beaten.”
Tears stung Zita’s eyes. She’d heard Teresa’s story before, but it didn’t make it any easier.
“I couldn’t stay there. I had to get away. After one beating, my arm was broken. I was taken to a doctor to get it set and I managed to escape. I ran away, as far as I could and then kept going. I didn’t know how far the gang’s influence spread and I was too scared to stop. Then I met some others who were going to the United States and I joined them. It was better than staying in El Salvador.”
Shelly continued to ask questions, getting more details from the girl. Zita looked at David. His jaw was set and the steely look in his eyes was formidable. She was reassured that Teresa’s story had affected him.
It took several hours for Shelly to record the information, and to update them on the intel they’d received from El Salvador. Fernando, their contact there, was trying to fight the gangs from inside the country. He was investigating how to shut down the sex slave rings, but it was a dangerous job.
“Why can’t he speak with my mother?” Teresa asked, tears welling in her eyes.
“Johanna refused to talk to him,” Zita told her again. “It’s hard to know who to trust.”
Teresa burst into tears and Zita pulled her close. “We’re trying,niñita.” Her words were inadequate, but there was little else she could do. She glanced at Shelly, who looked as sad as Zita felt.
“A hearing date has been set for January,” Shelly told them. “We’ll go over the details again before then.”
Zita shook the woman’s hand. “Thank you.”
Teresa wiped her eyes and they walked out of the building. The girl climbed straight into Zita’s yellow SUV, but Zita turned to David. “I’m sorry, any questions you’ve got will have to wait. I need to get Teresa home.” She couldn’t deal with him now. Not when Teresa needed her and her heart was raw.
He nodded and ran a hand down her arm. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to be soothed, surprised he was being so kind.
“Can I call you later?”
“Sure.” She’d like to hear what he thought, whether any of his preconceptions had been challenged. She got into her car, pushing further thoughts of David aside. She felt so helpless when she sat in the meetings, listening to Shelly plan their case. There was nothing she could do, except be there for Teresa, and that wasn’t enough. She was tired of waiting for things to happen and being the passive attendee. She wanted to fight for her foster sisters, to develop their cases and to secure their freedom. What she really wanted was to be a lawyer.
But it could never happen. Her mother needed her too much at Casa Flanagan. She didn’t have the time to study.
Besides, she hadn’t been a great student at high school anyway. She probably wouldn’t even get into college.
It was all just a pipe dream. One she should probably forget.
With a sigh, she drove Teresa home.
***
Zita drove away and David ran a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d attended the meeting today, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. His stomach was tied up in knots, and he’d been nauseated as the girl had told her story.
There was little doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth.
But neither Zita nor Shelly had seemed surprised by it. Was it a common story, or had they heard it before and had a chance to take it all in?
He walked back into the office, hoping to get some answers. Shelly was talking with her receptionist.
