it, but I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Praying for your family. I know I can’t begin to imagine what you all were going through.”
She sat back down in the living room chair, her thoughts switching to the pile of envelopes that had slowly stacked up after her sister’s disappearance. There had been hundreds of cards from friends and family. “I do remember. Yours was one of the few handwritten letters. I hope you didn’t take it personally if we didn’t respond. There were so many cards and messages. First around the time of her disappearance, then a few months later at her funeral. I was just trying to keep my family together.”
“I didn’t mention the letter to make you feel guilty. I just wanted you to know that I had been thinking about you and your family.”
“I know.” She waved her hand in front of her, wishing it was just as easy to wave away the accumulated years of grief. “It wasn’t supposed to happen to Lilly. Not to a middle-class girl living in a small town where violent crime was rarer than a blizzard in July. It changed the fabric of my family. And of the entire town, really. It’s like the bubble we’d been living in burst, and people realized suddenly that what happened to Lilly could happen to anyone.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Even with all the time that had passed, she still hadn’t healed. Not completely. And she wasn’t sure she ever would.
* * *
Levi leaned forward to brush a strand of hair off her shoulder, then pulled back at the too-intimate gesture. He’d come to ensure she stayed safe. Nothing more.
“The scary thing is that it really can happen to anyone anywhere.” Her lashes were wet when she looked up at him. “These girls...they never expected to have to deal with what they have had to live through. And now...they have my father.”
As much as he didn’t want to pull her away from her grief, he needed to get her back on track. Her father’s life was at stake. And his might not be the only one.
“You mentioned an emergency plan. What exactly is Mercy supposed to do if she believes her life is in danger?”
“While we always hope we never have to use it, each girl has an emergency protocol in case their trafficker—or someone else—comes after them. We teach them what to do if they’re followed, how to get out of their apartment safely, who to call using code words if they are under duress and access to a safe house we have set up.”
“Tell me more about the safe house.”
“If any of the girls feel as if their lives are in danger, they are to call it in, then go directly to the safe house. The procedure was implemented because most of the girls—because of where they come from—are afraid of the authorities and don’t want to deal with them. It’s near public transportation so it’s easy to get to, and once there, they are given a cell phone to text me with the code that tells me where they are and that they are safe.”
“But Mercy hasn’t done any of these things.”
Kayla shook her head. “No. Which has me worried. I know Mercy. Maybe she doesn’t know they’re after her, but I found out right before you got here that she didn’t show up for work or her class tonight.”
“So you think she ran?”
“If they had her, they wouldn’t need me. So something had to have spooked her. Made her believe she was better off on her own than going to the safe house.”
“Have you ever used the system before?”
“The girl I told you about earlier, the one who was killed, she was being stalked by her former pimp. The last thing I got from her was her distress message.”
“Which might give Mercy motivation to do things on her own. Where do you think she would go?”
“I don’t know.” Kayla closed the living room curtains, turned on a lamp next to the couch, then sat down. “Most of the girls don’t have a lot of friends other than each other. They’re working hard for a better life and don’t have a lot of free time.”
Levi took the chair across from her. “Then help me understand what she’s thinking right now.”
Kayla let out a slow breath while her fingers played with the hem of her shirt. “By the time they get to us, they are suffering from PTSD. Most of them have been beaten over and over. Some of them have even been branded. They’ve been cut off from everyone. They are afraid to go to the authorities and too ashamed to go to friends or family. Coming to us—and working through our program—takes a tremendous amount of courage.”
He could hear the passion in her voice as she spoke about the girls she worked with. Her compassion for these women paired with her strong desire for justice had created a huge part of the motivation for her to do what she did. And on top of that—with the loss of her sister—the motivation behind what she did was personal.
“So how does someone like Mercy find you?” he asked.
“Getting out is often the hardest part. On one hand, they’re terrified of physical retribution if they leave. They’re also trapped mentally, so even if they could escape, many of them don’t because they are already isolated from friends and family. Girls like Mercy, who are from other countries, don’t have any identification papers and are terrified they’ll get arrested for being illegal.
“In Mercy’s situation, a Good Samaritan took her to the hospital after finding her beaten up in a hotel room. We work with other agencies, and often it’s the first responders who come to us with the girls, which is how she was eventually brought to us. Unfortunately too many of these girls don’t find a way out.”
Kayla’s phone buzzed again. She snatched it off the table.
“What is it this time?” Levi asked. If it was Mercy...
A second later she held up the phone so he could see it.
You didn’t listen to me. I told you not to get anyone involved. If you want to keep your father safe, you will do what I say.
She clicked on the attached photo. It was one of her and Levi standing at the window.
“Kayla—”
“They’re watching,” she said, quickly crossing the room to pull back the curtain and peer down again on the darkened street.
“You’re not going to find them,” he said, joining her at the window.
“I know.”
Levi felt his anger simmer as he followed her gaze to the cafés and shops, rows of bikes and pedestrians walking by. But someone was out there. Watching Kayla like they had been when she was on the street. Watching her again while she stood in the privacy of her home. His concern for Max and Mercy hadn’t changed, but now he was worried about her as well.
“If the message was meant to scare me, they’ve done exactly that,” she said. “I’m terrified. What am I supposed to do?”
He drew in a deep breath, mentally going through their options. “I think you should play their game.”
“Play their game? What do you mean?”
“I
