“Good. I work specifically with cases involving human trafficking. Are you aware of what that is?”
Does she think I’m a fucking idiot? Brain damaged, maybe? “It’s when you’re forced into being a ho.”
She inclines her head. “That’s part of it. I’m here because you’ve been identified as a victim of human trafficking.”
I stare at her. She doesn’t seem bothered by my silence.
She walks over and sits in the chair by my bed. I push myself farther up on the pillows.
“Would you be okay if we talk about what happened to you?” she asks me.
“Ain’t nothin’ happened to me,” I respond.
“Mitch Anderson didn’t force you to have sex with strangers for money?”
“I didn’t charge anyone money.”
“No. Mitch did that, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mitch is my boyfriend.”
“That’s what the other girls from the motel called him as well. You don’t mind sharing your boyfriend with them?”
I’m silent. I want to tell her I’m his favorite, but I’ve already said too much. I forgot how much trouble Mitch could be in for having sex with young girls.
“Your mother’s boyfriend, Frank, is a friend of Mitch’s, isn’t he?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” What I want is my pills. I don’t like the things I’m starting to feel. To think.
Jill gives me a sympathetic look. “Alexa—”
“Poppy,” I correct her. “My name is Poppy.”
“Do you really want to be called that?” she asks me.
Yes, but I give her the answer she wants to hear. “No.” I’ll tell her whatever she wants if it makes her go the fuck away.
I have to get out of here, but how far will I get in a hospital gown with my bare ass sticking out? I want to scream, but when I tried last night, nothing came out. Jill’s still watching me. I want to punch her in the face.
“I want to see Ivy,” I say.
Jill nods. “I’ll see if we can make that happen.”
“You don’t have to see shit. She right down the damn hall.” To prove it, I yell her name at the top of my lungs. “Ivy! Ivy!”
“Poppy!” comes the answering shout. “Pop-py!”
I grin, so fucking happy to hear her voice.
There’s a knock on the open door. I turn my head and see the woman cop who found me at the motel.
“Detective Willis,” Jill says, giving her a look I recognize from adults I’ve known my whole life. It brands me as “difficult,” an asshole.
The cop smiles at me. A small real one that tells me she’s known too many girls like me.
She ain’t known anyone like me.
“Can I come in?” she asks.
Like I can stop her. I nod. I can’t help but stare at her. She’s probably one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And she’s got this attitude—like she knows how to kill somebody with only two fingers, y’know? She’s strong.
I hate her for it.
She stands beside my bed, watching me like she thinks I might bite—and she’s prepared to take the risk. “How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Like a junkie,” I rasp. I hold up my hand; it trembles.
Detective Willis looks sympathetic, but I wonder if she’s ever felt like this before. “We’re going to get you into a rehab program for girls who have been trafficked.”
I startle. “I’m not going home?” I don’t care if I see my mother, or Frank, but Mitch won’t know where to find me if I don’t go home.
She looks at Jill, who shakes her head.
“What the fuck are y’all not tellin’ me?” I demand. “I’m right fucking here.”
Jill sighs. “Alexa, your mother has given up her parental rights. You can’t go home.”
I look from her to Detective Willis. “She doesn’t want me?”
The cop tries to take my hand. I pull it away. “She knows home is not a good environment for you.”
“Bullshit,” I say. “She just doesn’t want her fucked-up kid back.”
I am not going to cry.
“So, I’m going to be sent to prison, then, huh?” I ask. I won’t be eighteen for almost a year. That makes me a ward of the state. “Where all unwanted kids go?”
“No,” Jill says. “We found someone who very much wants to take you.”
“Who?” I demand.
“Your aunt Krys,” she replies.
I remember Krys—vaguely. We used to spend a lot of time with her when my grandmother was alive, back when I was little and Mom’s drinking wasn’t so bad. I liked her.
I frown.
“She’d like to visit with you, and if you want, you could maybe live with her and her husband in Middletown when you get out of the program.”
“What does she want in return?” I ask. “She get paid to take me?”
Detective Willis doesn’t look surprised at the question. “She doesn’t want anything.”
I snort.
“She told me your mother wouldn’t let her see you when they broke ties. She says she’s missed you.”
My throat is tight. I swallow hard. I’m not the kid Krys knew. I’m not a kid at all. “She’s not going to want me when she sees what a mess I am.”
“Maybe you should let me decide that,” comes a voice from the door. My head whips around so fast, it hurts.
Standing just inside the room is a woman who looks like a younger, sober version of my mother. Softer. She’s tall and slim with bright red hair and blue eyes. She’s wearing a long sweater over leggings with tall boots. She looks like she stepped out of a catalog.
“Aunt Krys?” My voice sounds thin, stupid.
She’s pale, her mouth tight and eyes watery as she nods. “Hi, Lexi-bug.”
I burst into tears.
* * *
“Wake up.”
Something pokes me in the face. I groan and push at it, grabbing a skinny finger. My eyes open, blinking against the corridor light shining into my otherwise darkened room.
A familiar face looms over mine.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Time for you to get a Altoid or somethin’,” Ivy replies. “Girl, whadafuck died in your mouth?”
I laugh. “You don’t like my breath, get your face out of it,” I tell her. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”
“Somethin’s goin’ on. The nurses ain’t watching the station. Let’s go.”
Suddenly, I’m wide awake, throwing back the covers. They took my IV out earlier, so I’m not connected to anything anymore. I’m not 100 percent, but I’m better than I was, and I’m ready to get the fuck out of this place.
Yesterday, when one of the nurses opened the cabinet in my room, I spotted the clothes I was wearing when they brought me in. I go get them and pull them on. They smell like the motel and French fries. Ivy’s dressed too.
“Where we goin’?” I whisper.
She shrugs. “Anywhere we want.”