Page 54 of The Quiet Witness

But she didn’t speak.

Kate bent down in front of her, noticing how she scooted back a couple inches. Lowering her voice to one of gentleness, she asked. “I’m Kate. Kate Withers. What’s your name?”

Seconds ticked by, and just when she thought no answer would come, a tiny voice rasped out. “Isabel… Delonso.”

“Nice to meet you, Isabel.”

The woman nodded lightly, hugging her arms. Kate spotted the white bandage trapped tightly over her wrist. Isabel saw, sliding a hand over it to shield it from view.

Deep. She was knee-deep in desperation.

A creaking lake below her boots, Lucien’s voice demanding her back from the edge. The same level of depth. Rock bottom.

She was just in time to hold the bucket in front of Isabel, and waited for the wave to settle before the girl sagged down on the mattress, utterly spent. Kate turned to leave, feet aimed for the door when Isabel spoke. “Kate… I-is this place to be t-trusted?”

Oh, I am so not the person to answer this question.

She hovered. How to answer? Everything she had seen pointed to this place being… solid. More than that, the women seemed happy, taken care of. Thriving even. Much as they could with the weights stacked in their backpacks. And then there was Lucien. But what role did he play? Why even had he brought her here?

All she knew was that if she told the woman anything but the positive. She could shove her over an edge she might never return from. So she whirled around, forcing a smile toward the struggling woman. “From what I’ve seen, you can rest your head on that pillow tonight, and every night after.”

Isabel nodded. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” With that, she turned her back. Leaving behind the cuts and scrapes, the bruises on these women. The stories they carried.

But not forever. She’d be back. If the chance was hers.

“They will pull through.” Georgia whispered to her. “We’ll make sure of it.”

***

Georgia led her to a table in the corner. “Fancy a coffee, Katherine?”

“Yes, please.”

Black chairs lined the waiting halls, where a young woman sat swinging her legs with a young baby cradled to her chest. Talking in hushed tones to her child, the girl planted a kiss on the tiny baby’s nose. A true mother’s love.

Kate pulled her gaze away to give them some privacy just as the coffee machine vibrated to life. She backed away from the table Georgia had led her to. “I’ll go and use the bathroom first, if that’s alright with you?”

“Sure hun, down the hall on your left.”

The smell of lavender filled the toilets, chasing away the scent of desperation from her nose. Black and white tiles littered the floor like a chessboard, dazzling her. Water spilled from the tap as she rubbed her palms and scrubbed beneath her nails in an attempt to scrape away what she had seen.

Kate peered up at herself. Skin still pale. But the bags under her eyes had lessened. Those same cheekbones, although less sharp. And her eyes themselves… there was still a light in them that had never dimmed, and yet the desperation lingered there. The tiny wrinkles spoke pages about her own past.

That was it.

That was the reason they seemed so familiar. Their eyes held the same story. Anguish, desperation, and signs of hope, all fighting for their spot.

Kate turned away from the mirror and its secrets, leaving the bathroom behind with the swinging door thudding shut behind her.

She found her coffee waiting on the table in front of Georgia. Soon as she sat down, Georgia began. “I won’t ask what has happened. That is your story to tell. But I have seen enough to know your life hasn’t been easy.” She pushed the coffee even closer to Kate. “I bet that’s why Lucien took you here.”

And which question did that even answer?

“What is Lucien’s place in all this?”

Georgia hung back in her seat, mulling over her answer. “Because of him, this place exists. Together we started this foundation. My experience paired with his generous donations and ongoing support means we’re able to help all these people.”