Off to the side was an open doorway with no door; inside it was a toilet, a shower stall with no curtain, and a pedestal sink.

One rectangular window rested so high up on the wall, all she could see were the tree trunks that filled its glass frame. Outside the caged-in area was what appeared to be a finished basement, though it was currently bare of furniture.

A tall brunette wearing a red silk robe that stopped just shy of mid-thigh stopped chewing her bottom lip long enough to answer. ‘We’re not sure. I’m Becca, by the way.’

Rachel was still trying to process that when a groan as creepy as it was unexpected had her head snapping to the right, causing a lightning flash of pain to shoot through her skull. After the dizziness wore off, she noticed a girl who could’ve been fourteen or forty covering her mouth as she whimpered, her glassy eyes wide as she rocked back and forth, hard tremors knocking her body against the painted cinderblock wall. She, too, wore a silk robe, only hers was royal blue.

‘That’s Cheyenne,’ Becca whispered softly, sadly. Then she tilted her head to what probably used to be a stunning redhead but whose face and arms were now covered in scars, red scratches, bruises, and open wounds. The girl, dressed in a yellow silk robe, lay in a fetal position, mewling sounds that resembled a cornered cat emerging every few seconds, hollow eyes staring at nothing as she scraped at her skin. ‘And that’s Meghan.’

‘Wh – what’s wrong with her?’ Rachel asked, aware she didn’t really want to know the answer.

‘She’s been like that since yesterday, ever since they brought her back downstairs.’

Who was they? Nausea twisted her stomach into little knots. ‘Where’s Anna?’ Her lips quivering, she reached down to straighten her skirt only to realize in horror that her clothes had been replaced by one of the silky robes the other girls wore. Hers was a deep burgundy. Her skin crawled as questions screamed in her brain. Who had undressed her? Why?

As if her thoughts had been spoken aloud, she received her answer from somewhere behind her and to her right when yet another girl snorted, and a voice as cold as the other’s had been warm said, ‘Welcome to the sex trade, where unwilling participants are sold for sex to the highest bidder – or bidders. And the more terror you show, the more they want you. And unless you’re Anna, no one knows who the hell she is.’

‘Christ, Faye! What’s wrong with you!’

Rachel moaned, the contents of her stomach churning and threatening to revolt. She clapped her hands over her ears. ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Sold for sex? Things like that happened only in the movies or on the news, but certainly not to her. Her mind numb with horror, she listened as the girl called Becca berated the other.

‘What? You think she’s not going to figure it out soon enough, just like the rest of us did?’ The girl called Faye waved her purple silk-encased arm around their cell.