“I just know of two girls and one guy. They’re nice. They like it here.”
They’re brainwashed and drugged.
“But doyoulike it here?”
“He wants me to say yes. I’m supposed to say yes,” she murmured.
Come on, M.
“What doyouwant to say, though? I’m not interested in what you’re supposed to say. I’m interested in the truth about whatyouthink.”
“He said my thoughts don’t matter anymore—”
I quickly cut her off.
“No. Your thoughts matter. I promise you they do. Tell me, do you like it here?”
She shook her head, giving me hope.Good girl.
“Did you come here on your own?”
M shook her head again.Come on, girl, we’re almost there.
“Can you leave if you want to?”
She shook her head, lowered it, and began to cry harder.
“You’re not allowed to leave the house?”
She shook her head again, giving me two confirmations that she was being held against her will.
“I’m so scared that I’m going to die here. They lock me in a room with the others.”
This case had been full of hopes that had me so pumped, only to be crushed time and again. But now I had my confirmation, and I had never felt as good as I did in that moment since taking on the case. I’d get her out of here.
We still had some time to burn. If I’d left the room early, it would look suspicious. Or worse, Sebastian would think M hadn’t pleased me. She could end up hurt worse before I’d get back here tonight.
“If you weren’t here tonight, where would you be?” I thought maybe she would talk to me and give me some indication of what might be in her future when she’d leave here.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“You’re eighteen. Were you living somewhere before you came here?”
“I lived at home with my mom and her boyfriend.”
“Where was home?”
It had been several minutes since she’d last spoken, and I assumed that I’d pushed her into some bad memories. I assumed all of these young adults had some reason they were here. Some seemed to have come from off the streets, but something pushed them to the streets in the first place. I suspected she was a runaway, upset and wanting to stay away from her home life.
“You don’t want to go home?”
“No,” she said confidently.
From the two conversations I’d had with M, I could detect fear and a shakiness in her voice with everything she’d said. Except for her “no” answer. Her confirmation that she didn’t want to go back home was very absolute.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be okay. I wanted to hold her and tell her I would be back for her in a little while. I wanted to be able to give her something she could emotionally hold on to. I’d never wanted to hold someone as badly as I’d wanted to hold and protect her. I had to keep it together for a while longer, though.
I twisted on the balls of my feet so I could look at the clock above the door. Our time was winding down.
