The embassy in Afghanistan, which Finland has since shut down, was my very first foreign station as a diplomat. Like every new hire in Foreign Affairs, I’d spent my first two years on the job in Finland’s capital, Helsinki, learning about diplomacy, before being transferred to Afghanistan for another two year stint. I’d only been there for about six months when the bomb detonated. I remembered how calm Evan and his team were when it happened. I also remembered being impressed that, unlike the embassy workers, who had frozen in fear, Evan’s team knew exactly what to do. It was like they’d rehearsed that exact scenario hundreds of times before. I knew they probably had practiced that scenario many times, but probably not inside the Finnish embassy in Afghanistan. That was a twist I doubted they saw coming.
Then, 18 months after the bombing, I was sent to my second foreign assignment in Russia, and two years after that, I was assigned to the embassy in the United States. It was during my time in Russia when I’d been designated as an economic diplomat, mostly because I was good at numbers, and since then I’d been doing work similar to what I had attempted with Paradise Cruises—matching Finnish companies with Russian, and now American companies, that could profit by working together. It was an interesting job, and one I seemed to be good at, except for the past few months since I discovered just how evil my father was.
On top of struggling to focus on anything other than human trafficking, I’d also started having nightmares about trafficking victims. In many of those bad dreams, my past and my present swirled together: Cruise ship workers would turn into members of the Gonzales family, then die right in front of me, sometimes murdered, sometimes the flu, and sometimes in other graphic ways that my brain conjured up. The lack of peaceful sleep was taking its toll on my sanity.
Now, on top of everything else, I felt bad that I’d been so difficult with Evan, when he’d just been trying to help. And even though I hated that his mother was hurt, I was almost glad that we’d been interrupted. I’d been too close to telling him my secrets—that I was investigating Paradise Cruises on my own, and that I was going on dates with one of the executives involved in the trafficking, to try and get more information.
And I could tell, for a man like Evan, learning those secrets wouldn’t have gone over well. I knew that what I was doing was stupid and reckless, I knew that it could end badly for me, but I was doing it anyways. The messed-up thing was that part of me wished that Evan did know, and that he’d care enough to stop me. But another part of me, the louder and more outspoken part, knew I had to follow through with my plans. I owed it to my childhood friends to do everything I could to help other trafficking victims, even if I was putting myself in danger.
I was also ashamed to tell Evan why I was so invested in trafficking victims. What would he think of me, that I hadn’t stopped my father from abusing so many people? What would he think about me abandoning my friends to their fates, which ended up getting them killed? The Evan I met in Afghanistan had always looked at me with admiration. I couldn’t bear to see that look change to disgust. I couldn’t risk ruining how he thought of me, how he saw me. Evan, and his opinion of me, were valuable.
All the stress was getting to me, and I decided to take a break from my work and head to the embassy’s basement, where our sauna is. Pretty much every time I’d told an American about the embassy’s sauna for employees to use, the person was shocked, but in Finland, visiting saunas is a regular part of our culture, to the point where almost everyone has one at their home. Finns use saunas to socialize, to improve our health, and to relax, and today, between the trafficking, the nightmares, and seeing Evan again, I desperately needed a break.
5
EVAN
On my way to the airport, I called and updated Nolan about my family, letting him know that I needed to take some time off to care for my mom and my sister. Most of my team was already aware of my family’s history and my dad’s abusiveness. I trusted them with my life, and with my biggest, most painful secret.
While on the phone with him, I’d also updated Nolan on my interview with Kassidy. I’d told him that I believed her, but that I felt she hadn’t told us everything yet because she was afraid. I asked him to keep an eye on her while I was gone, and he’d agreed.
The flight to Austin lasted a little over three hours, and the ride to the hospital added another 30 minutes to my trip. It was dark outside by the time I arrived, and by then I was exhausted, hungry, and sick with worry. I ignored all of that, though, and headed straight to my mom’s room. When I stopped in the doorway, I saw that she was asleep and laying completely still, hooked up to machines and monitors that beeped occasionally. Next to her bed, my sweet little sister was curled up in a chair, a blanket wrapped around her, head resting on her knees, eyes closed. Ava was only four years younger than me, but she looked so much younger as she rested, and I wished I’d gotten to the hospital sooner. It took her a moment, but when Ava realized I was standing in the doorway, she cried out with relief, jumping up and rushing towards me.
“I’m here, sis. Everything’s going to be okay,” I promised as I hugged her.
As we held vigil over our mom, she caught me up on everything. Ava had gotten a call from our parents’ landline phone this morning, and while no one was on the other end, she could hear arguing in the background, followed by screaming, and what sounded like someone being hit. They were sounds that we'd both become well acquainted with as kids, and I would've done anything to give my sister a normal childhood, instead of her spending so much time hiding with me in closets as our dad abused our mom.
When I was a teenager, I’d done my best to protect my mom and sister from him, shouldering as much of his rage and aggression as I could so that he wouldn’t hurt them. I still had the scars from those days. And as soon as I’d graduated high school, I’d left for the Army. I’d begged my mom to leave him, to bring Ava and come with me for a fresh start in a new place, but she’d refused. As soon as I’d finished boot camp, I talked to an attorney about filing for custody of my sister, but I was told it was pointless, since I had nowhere for her to go when I was deployed. Since I couldn’t keep her with me, I made sure to check on her every day, and as much as I could while I was deployed, whether it was through a phone call, an email, or a text message. And ever since she’d turned 18, I’d been trying to talk Ava into moving closer to me. She’d always refused, saying that she was worried about our mom and didn’t want to abandon her, but I hated that she was still within reach of that monster. Then, she’d gotten married and had Olivia, and that was another reason she had for staying where she was.
I was proud of Ava, though, and how she’d handled things in my absence today. Just like I would have done, as soon as she heard the screaming, she’d called the police. Then she drove to our parents’ house and parked nearby, waiting for the officers to enter first. By the time the police had breached the front door, our dad had run, disappearing into the nearby fields filled with crops.
Ava accompanied our mom to the hospital and stayed with her the entire time. She’d checked in with the detective a couple of hours before I arrived, learning that our dad was still on the run, and that knowledge burned me to the core. I was dying to hunt him down, to punish him for what he’d done to my mom, what he’d done to all of us for decades, but I couldn’t. I had to set my emotions aside and take care of my baby sister and my mom, but staying with them instead of going to look for him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.