“Vera Ford.”
Instant recognition flares in his eyes. “She’s got to be, what, seventeen or eighteen now?”
“Nineteen.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “What happened to her?”
“She was sex trafficked as a little kid. At some point after they left Rydeville. From somewhere in Cali.”
Horror floods his face, and I’m guessing he’s thinking of his daughter. Jane is eleven now and the oldest of his three kids. “From what age, and for how long?”
“I haven’t been able to find out exactly what happened or when, but it wasn’t too long after they fled. Vera was three and a half when they left, and she has no recollection of anything that happened. No memories of her parents or her brother or sister. If she’d been a year or two older when taken, she’d most likely remember some things.”
“Jesus Christ.” Charlie props his elbows on his knees and cradles his head in his hands. “Fuck, Drew. Fuck, fuck.”
“I know.” I can barely speak over the messy ball of emotion lodged in my throat. “She has suffered unimaginable things. It’s all she knows of life, and the trauma is severe.”
When he lifts his head, tears cloud his vision. “I hate that I can imagine the kind of things she endured. I hate this is the world we live in. I hate the things we were forced to do. I hate that Jane’s baby sister has led that life.” He shakes his head and looks away.
“I found her thirteen months ago,” I begin explaining because there’s no point holding back now. “She was caged along with fifty-seven other boys and girls in a private compound in the mining district in Orinoco in Venezuela. Most of the kids were way younger, but her and a couple of others were kept when they got older and used as recruiters.”
A fresh wave of horror ghosts over Charlie’s pale face. “Fuck no.”
“She tried to kill herself a month after I brought her back to the US. She was skin and bones when I found her and severely malnourished. I took her to Parkhurst and stayed while she was nursed back to health and weaned off the cocktail of drugs she’d been fed for years. Getting clean meant she was more aware of what’d been done to her, what she’d been forced to do, and the things she’d witnessed. She only remembers bits and pieces because they drugged her from a young age. But she remembers enough. She broke, Charlie. She fully broke, and I was so out of my depth. I knew she needed specialist care, and I didn’t want to leave her at Parkhurst. I know they have good medical programs and top-notch, ethical medical professionals employed now, but I didn’t want to see her in that kind of environment long-term.”
“So, you called Selena,” he surmises.
We have personal connections with the Kennedys, one of the US’s most famous families. My sister’s brother-in-law Rick is best friends with Kyler Kennedy, and through him, we’ve gotten to know Keven, Selena, and other members of the family. Keven is now part owner of HADK Cybersecurity Solutions Limited, alongside Zayn, Xavier, and Sawyer.
Selena knew Dani Lauder, Jackson’s sister, from their mutual time spent imprisoned on an island where both girls were forced into sex slavery. We all regularly donate funds to support Moonlight, and I knew it was the perfect place for Vera. Though I wouldn’t have forced her to stay there if she hadn’t liked it and wanted to.
I bob my head. “She hasn’t tried to harm herself since, but it’s a long road to recovery, and there have been lots of ups and downs.”
“What can I do to help?”
I shrug. “Keep donating to Moonlight, I guess. I’m not sure there’s anything else anyone can do.” I bite down on my lip. “I feel like I’ve failed her. It took me so fucking long after Jane’s body was returned to me to track her down, and I haven’t been able to find Silas or their parents. It’s like they vanished into thin air.”
“Jane wasreturnedto you?” Charlie’s troubled eyes probe mine. “How and by who?”
“That’s another story and not one for here.” My eyes drift to the marble coffin. “I won’t let talk of that shit taint the peace Jane has finally found.” At least I hope she’s at peace. I can’t bear to think of anything else.
“I want to know it all, Drew. You’re not cutting me out of this any longer.”
ChapterThree
Athena
“Your dad’s on the line for you,” my executive assistant Lucy says, poking her head through my open door. I work hard to hide the grimace from my face. There goes my good mood and my weekend plans I’m guessing. I should’ve known he’d call my office when I ignored the calls he made to my cell earlier.
Amos Martin is not known for his patience.
“Put him through,” I say before closing my door and sitting back down behind my desk. Smothering my frustration, I pick it up when the call is transferred. “Father.”
“Athena.” He always manages to say my name in a slightly constipated tone. Before she died, Mom loved telling me the story of how she convinced Dad to name me after the goddess who personifies wisdom, warfare, and craftwork. I’m not sure Dad was ever entirely convinced, but I guess he must have loved Mom enough at that point to let her have her way.
“I left messages on your cell.” Displeasure rifles through his tone.
“I haven’t checked my cell all day,” I lie. “I’m finalizing a project for a big client, and I didn’t want any distractions.”
