"What happened?" I ask.
"It's not worth it," she says.
That's what I used to tell myself. A few months ago, dozens of children were being kept captive in my own home. I didn't do anything about it because I was too afraid of the repercussions.
I'm still ashamed of how passive I was, rather than doing something.
"What's your name?" I ask her.
“Fifty-eight," she says.
"That's a number," I say, confused.
"The number is our name," she replies.
I suck in a breath. The more I learn about this world, the less I want to be a part of it.
"What was your name before you came here?" I ask.
She only blinks at me. "We should go now. This is taking too long."
“You can’t let them erase your identity,” I tell her. “You can’t let them break you."
She doesn't say a word, but I see it all in her eyes. They tell me it's too late.
"Please," she says.
I swallow and step outside. The girl walks behind me.
"Sarah," she whispers. "My name was Sarah."
My feet falter for a moment before I resume walking.
I don't know how I'll be able to help someone else when I can't even help myself. But this has gotten under my skin. It's enough to awaken the part of me that's bold and unafraid.
"You took your sweet time," Mrs. V says, glancing at Sarah. "Give her a bath. We need to have her dressed and ready for the auction in less than two hours."
"Yes, ma'am," Sarah replies.
Mrs. V leaves without another word, taking the other girl with her. The doors close behind them. It's just Sarah and me in the room now.
I walk toward the windows.
"Opening them will trigger an alarm," Sarah says.
I turn to look at her.
"Guards are stationed outside every door," she says, gesturing for me to follow her into another room. "It's not worth it. Please don't get me into trouble."
I want to tell her that I'll try to get her out of this hell. But I don't want to make promises I can't keep.
I follow her into the adjoining room. There's a dressing table in one corner stacked with makeup products and hair tools. Numerous racks of clothes are pushed to the side. My stomach churns as I realize that I'm not the first girl to get ready for an auction here. And I won't be the last.
She takes me to another bathroom.
A giant circular bathtub sits in the middle with steam rising from the water. Sarah checks the temperature with her hand before looking at me.
"What's in the water?" I ask. The milky-colored water looks inviting, but I'm hesitant to step into it.
