“We’ve got lives to live. It’s our chance to start again.”
“Yeah…you’re right.”
I drank my coffee until the mug was empty and set it aside. “I’m gonna go down to the police precinct.”
She stilled, snapping out of our emotional moment instantly. “What? You’re going to the police?”
“We’re reported as missing persons. I have to rectify that. And I’m going to tell them all about the camp.”
She continued to give me that look, like she couldn’t believe what I’d just said. “Seriously?”
“Why wouldn’t I? There are still women stuck there. I’m bringing it down.”
“I…I’m just surprised.”
It would be more out of character for me to do nothing. “Why?”
“I mean…Magnus really put his ass on the line for you. Don’t you think this is wrong? It’s a betrayal.”
I appreciated everything he’d done for me, and I didn’t see him as anything like the others. It was unclear why he was involved in such a horrendous place when he still had a heart. Maybe it was a family obligation…or something else. “They’re two separate things. I do appreciate what he did for me, but I’m loyal to those women who are stuck there, who weren’t so lucky. I will tell the police everything, about the camp, the guards, the boss…but I won’t mention Magnus. I can’t just move on with my life knowing Bethany is still there, that Cindy is still there. Can you?”
All she did was stare.
“No, we can’t.” I rose out of the chair and left my mug aside.
“Raven?”
I turned back to her.
“I don’t think going to the police is going to do anything…”
“Why?”
She was quiet, like she didn’t want to say. “Fender is—”
“The boss?”
She nodded. “He’s really powerful. I mean…you have no idea. I don’t think reporting it will change anything. If anything, you’re just bringing attention back to us.”
That didn’t change anything for me. “I have to do this, Melanie. Bethany risked her neck for me. I have to do the same for her.”
I sat with a sergeant at his desk, and he took all my information, removing me from the missing persons file and helping me get a new ID, as well as some extra money to get me back on my feet again.
“You were trafficked?” He made the assumption, like that was the only possibility for my disappearance.
“No. I was kidnapped—and forced into a labor camp.”
His pen was to the paper, finishing up my file, but he stopped and looked up at me.
“It’s a camp in the south, near the Alps. There are camps everywhere, and the way to get there is on horseback. Planes drop crates of cocaine from the sky, they process it, and then distribute it. It’s full of kidnapped women who are forced into servitude, and if they don’t work hard enough, they’re killed.”
He stared at me blankly.
“What?”
“There’s no shame in being the victim of trafficking. It happens to a lot of women, unfortunately. If you tell me the truth, it might help us catch these guys. No need to make up a story.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, in disbelief. “Make up a story…?”
“Those drug operations are in South America. Not in France.”
“Then how do you explain the drugs on the streets?”
“Tourism.”
My eyebrows jumped up my face. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“Then where is the camp?”
“I just told you—”
“I need more details than that. How do you expect me to send out men to investigate when I don’t know where to send them?”
“I was a prisoner. You think they let me know that information? It was close to the Alps, so send a helicopter to scout the area—”
“Ma’am, this is a police station. We have crimes to solve. We don’t have time for fantastical stories—”
“Don’t you fucking ma’am me like I’m a Karen.”
His expression turned blank. “What?”
It was an American thing. Probably had no idea what that term meant. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m giving you as much as information as I can for you to discover and eliminate the biggest drug operation in France—”
“There is no drug operation.” He stopped taking notes, like there was no further discussion.
My heart hit my chest with every beat.
Terror washed over me.
I knew exactly what had happened without needing any physical evidence. “You know exactly what I’m talking about…”
He stared at me, stone-faced.
“But he’s paid you off…”
“Ma’am, I have no idea what—”
“Fuck off.” I left the chair in front of his desk and stepped away. “There is a woman brutally executed every single week, just because she isn’t as strong as everyone else. We work every single day as slaves. The only way out of that place is through death. If you choose to sit there with a fat wallet and look the other way, then you dishonor the badge. You dishonor everything you should stand for.”
I sat up in bed, the Count of Monte Cristo on my lap, the pages damp at the corners. The rain hit the window right next to me, and the hot coffee on my nightstand smelled the nutmeg and cinnamon. It was the middle of the day, but I had nowhere to go and nothing to do, so I never changed out of my pajamas.
My body had already started to return to its previous weakness since I didn’t work all day anymore. My abs were slowly being covered with a layer of fat, and my breasts were getting bigger. I turned away from the book and looked out the window, seeing the raindrops hit the glass and drip down in quick rivers, only to be replaced by another drop.
My entire adventure might have felt like just a dream, but this book was a piece of my story, and the memory of the man who’d slept by my side in that very bed told me it was all real…every single moment.
Melanie appeared in the open doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over
