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Prologue

Hanna

“When we get out of here, I’ I’m too old”

“Sofia … we’re not getting out of here”

“Nonsense What are you going to do e get out?”

“Sof—”

“Humor me Please”

The pleading and exhaustion she tried to uttedleft to give

It’d all been taken Again, and again, and again

I wasn’t even sure how long we’d been here If I had to guess, I’d say a few s that made time both speed up and stretch on endlessly I didn’t even knohere ere anymore; we’dthe fli to my sweat-soaked skin

Otherwise, each place was the same Same dirt-stained mattress Same smell of piss and hopelessness Same less room

This time it wasn’t a room with a door, but a set of dividers with a curtain I preferred the room with the closed door At least then, iton around us

The grunts, the cries, the disgusting sounds of skin hitting skin

A tre my stomach I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, not that I could have kept anything down past the nausea Part of s they constantly puness Craved the escape fro done to my body Craved the absence of pain

The other part of me feared what happened in the darkness when I was unaware

“Please, Hanna” Sofia’s sluggish voice reminded me she asked me a question What did I want to do e escaped the men who took us—the men who sold our bodies like cattle?

Stupid tears burnedout of here unless it was through death—which, as the days stretched on, didn’t sound horrible