“My name is Ant. I used to live in this same building, and that guard I killed used to hurt me too.”
It’s easy to see who’s also been hurt by the guard, but perhaps our shared history gives them something to trust about me.
Shaking off the awful feeling, I continue, “I now save people from places like this. We are going to help you get back home, or if home isn’t safe, we’ll find a safe place for you.”
There’s a beat of silence, then suddenly, I’m surrounded by these kids who have seen way too much. I kneel and find myself hugged on all sides, which nearly takes me out.
“We have to be super quiet,” I whisper to them. “Does anyone know how many kids are on this island?”
A little boy holds up his hand. “There are fifteen, and I overheard Mr. Dante say another plane is coming in tomorrow.”
“Did he say where it was coming in from?”
“Brazil.”
“I’m on it,” Erik whispers through the comms.
I verify the count of the children in here at a dozen.
“Okay, my friend will take care of the kids on that flight. Do you know where the other kids are?”
He shifts on his feet, upset. “I don’t know. They go wherever Mr. Dante takes them,” the little boy says, tears forming in his eyes. “Please, don’t leave them here. We can’t leave them here.”
I shake my head. “We are only leaving the bad people. We have a friend waiting for us on a boat docked outside. I’m going to get you all there and then go back and help my friend find everyone else. Okay?”
They all nod, and I continue, “I’m going to need your help getting out of here. You’ll have to be very quiet. Do you think you can do that?”
Silently, they all nod their heads. I recognize the look of terror and daring hope in their eyes and remember with absolute clarity the gut check of having to trust someone I feared because all my options were bad. I quickly wipe away a tear, realizing that maybe I had been as brave as Erik says.
“What about the guards?” one of the little girls asks.
“My friend is taking care of them.”
“Does that mean he’s killing them?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I smile and wonder if I shouldn’t check in on her in a few years. “You won’t have to worry about them anymore, I promise. Now, we have to go. You have thirty seconds. Take your pillowcase and quietly—quietly—grab some clothes and whatever’s important to you.”
Most of the kids, having been stripped of the things that kept them tethered to their old life, grab only a handful of clothing. The brave little boy and another girl finish with their things and then gather clothing and items for the missing kids.
“If someone tries to stop us, I will handle them, but you can’t scream. You can’t make a sound. Even if I get hurt. Do you understand?”
I have to repeat the translation for the little Thai boy and resort to rudimentary sign language when that doesn’t work. I know he understands when his eyes widen in fear.
Carefully, I lead them out of the building. As we round the corner to take the pretty cobbled path leading to the dock, a young woman in a maid’s uniform nearly runs into me. The kids gasp but then swallow their reactions. I check with them, and they verify she is nice to them. From the looks of things, no one has been nice to her.
When I explain the plan in Spanish, tears spill down her cheeks, and she says two more little boys came in with one of the billionaires last night and are at the pool while he’s playing some sort of card game. She offers to grab them and asks if she can gather the rest of the innocent house staff as well.
Even though I’m taking a chance by trusting her, I know in my heart she won’t give us up. The people who work here don’t want to be here, and the children’s familiarity with them will help them feel safe.
We agree to meet at the path in ten minutes.
“I’m Ant,” I say, grabbing her shoulder.
“Maura,” she responds, pulling me into a brief hard hug before running off.
