They don’t leave people behind.
I open my eyes fully.
Different room.
Concrete floor. Single bulb overhead. No music. No perfume. No fake velvet and cheap promises.
A warehouse.
I test the rope lightly. Tight. Professional knot.
My ankles are tied too.
A door scrapes open somewhere behind me.
Boots on concrete.
I don’t turn my head.
I don’t give him that.
“Well,” he says.
That voice.
Smooth. Polished. Like authority wrapped in rot.
I look at him then.
The badge man.
Clean shirt. Polished shoes. That same calm, irritated tone he used when he said he just needed to verify my age. Badge on his belt. Nothing to worry about.
“You cost me a recruiter,” he says mildly. “Good help isn’t easy to replace.”
“Tessa?” My voice doesn’t shake.
He smiles slightly. “She was useful.”
“You were going to sell me.”
He tilts his head. “That was the plan.”
He steps closer, crouching so we’re eye level.
“You were supposed to be premium inventory,” he says. “Untouched. High value.”
The words should hurt.
They don’t.
“Now?” I ask.
His smile fades.
“Now you’re damaged goods.”
He says it like it’s a financial report.
