Page 91 of Trapped Truth

I have no idea if she’ll go for it, but after a second, Gracie slowly nods, a little smile playing across her mouth.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I want to be able to defend myself when the time comes.” She skates her stare over me. “Who better to teach me?”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll come back to see you and give you lessons. In return, I’ll need everything you remember about where you were held and the people you saw.”

She blanches, the little colour she had in her cheeks draining away.

“Can you do that for me?” I ask gently.

“I’ll try, Ember. I swear.”

“I know you will. I’m proud of you, Gracie. I hope you know that.”

With tears sliding down her cheeks, she shuffles out of the corner to bundle me in a real hug. I cradle her bony form into my chest, running a hand over limp blonde locks that once shined bright. I hope they will again.

“W-What if I wrote a list of names now?” Stammering into my chest, her voice is muffled. “There were others held with me… Other missing girls. Their families should know.”

“If you’re up for it, that would be extremely helpful.”

“I think I can do it.”

With a final reassuring squeeze, I release her. “Thank you.”

“You’ll still come back and teach me?”

“Absolutely! A deal’s a deal.”

She plucks up a weak smile, sidling from the room to locate paper and a pen. I let the back of my head crash into the wall, taking advantage of the spare moment to gather my thoughts. The last day or so has been a whirlwind.

Between Gracie’s intel and the testimony Gunnar has agreed to provide as part of his plea deal, there has to be something we can use. A nugget of information. At least one solid lead. I’ll take anything that will give us an edge in this race against the clock.

When Gracie returns, she retakes her place to contemplate the folded paper in her hand. Not exactly a grocery list stuffed into her mum’s handbag. I’m sure the poor woman would be horrified by her daughter’s scribbled list of victims’ names.

“It’s all a bit blurred.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Is it like that for you too?”

“Sometimes, but the asshole therapist my job assigned does his best to dig around inside my brain.”

“That sounds like hell on earth.”

“You get used to it after a while.”

Eyebrows pinched, Gracie jots down a couple names. “I don’t have surnames.”

“Anything is helpful.”

“There was a woman… Someone in charge.”

“In charge?” My breath catches.

“Yes, but not in a bad way. She protected us a lot. Brought medicine, food, clean clothes. She was different from us somehow, untouchable even. Sometimes I saw her eating with our master.”

“How old was she?”

“Older, closer to his age, I think. In fact, I saw them together a lot. She belongs to him, maybe. More so than anyone else who was purchased or sold.”