CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN #2
“You shh,“ I whispered back, clutching her arm for balance.
We didn’t bother undressing. Just collapsed onto the same bed. My head spun when I closed my eyes, so I didn’t. Kalani was asleep beside me in seconds.
The window of our room faced the sea. Outside, the horizon was starting to bloom with color. The first strokes of dawn softened the sky, washing it in gold and lavender.
The boys didn’t come back that night. It was morning by the time a knock pulled us out of our half-sleep. I hadn’t really slept, just drifted through broken memories and jagged flashes of fear, tangled in sheets that felt too hot and heavy.
The knock came, and I sat up too fast. The world lurched sideways, still hazy from the night before. Beside me, Kalani stirred, blinking against the light, her hair a wild tangle across her face. I slid out of bed and made my way to the door.
Will stood there. Shirt wrinkled, hair a mess, eyes dark and hollowed out by something deeper than exhaustion.
A bruise bloomed across his jaw, the kind that turned purple before it faded.
Aran hovered behind him, dried blood crusted near his collarbone, hands shoved deep into his pockets, knuckles split and scabbed.
They didn’t speak.
Aran walked past me without a word and dropped onto the edge of the bed, rubbing both hands over his face like he was trying to scrub the night off. Will exhaled, low, strained, and collapsed onto the other mattress.
Kalani and I exchanged a glance, but none of us said anything. There were questions waiting, but they could wait. We let the boys sleep. We tried to sleep too. When we woke, it was already mid day. Morning bleeding into noon.
We found ourselves at the hotel restaurant, the four of us gathered around a small wooden table out on the terrace.
The sun made everything feel sharper than it should, too many colors, and too much movement.
I could barely think through the noise in my head.
My stomach still turned at every scent, salt, oil, butter, jam, roasted meat drifting from the kitchen.
I held my water glass in both hands, like maybe it would ground me.
Like maybe it could keep the nausea at bay.
Kalani sat slumped beside me, her hair pulled into a half-fallen knot, strands sticking to her cheeks. Her eyes barely open, skin pale beneath the faded blush from last night. She tore off a piece of bread, soaked it in olive oil, and shoved it into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Gods,” she mumbled, chewing. “This is amazing.”
“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” I said, watching oil drip from her fingers.
She didn’t answer. Just groaned and reached for more.
Across from us, Will clutched a mug of black coffee like it was the only thing keeping him awake.
Aran hadn’t touched his food yet, which was really worrying and out of character for him.
He just sat there, slowly spreading marmalade onto bread.
I pushed my plate away. The food looked fine, but my body wouldn’t have it.
“So?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Did you find her?”
Will didn’t look up. He wouldn’t speak either. But Aran did.
“Yes,” he said. Yes.
For a moment, the word didn’t land. I just stared at him, waiting for it to shift into something real. Something I could believe. It had all felt like chasing shadows, hope rising and falling with every lead, every whisper.
We’d found her. I’d braced so hard for disappointment that I didn’t know what to do with the success. Was it success?
“But, Kera… the place is massive,” Will said, finally meeting my eyes. “There are guards. And—”
“A wall with pointy things on top,” Aran muttered. Will rubbed a hand down his face, and I saw it, beneath the weariness—the fear.
“There’s no way of getting her out,” he said. “Not without getting ourselves killed.”
I swallowed. “But you saw her?”
Aran nodded. “She didn’t seem to recognize us, though.”
The words hit something in my chest. Maybe she was drugged, or worse. Maybe she was too far gone to remember. Kalani had said that she’d been talking about us, but it wasn’t really us she remembered. Not who we were now. She remembered nine-year-old us. And we… we remembered nine-year-old Licia.
Kalani shot to her feet, the scrape of her chair harsh against the stone.
“Then let’s go get her.”
Will’s hand was already raised.
“Wait,” he said. “There’s more. It’s not just a building. It’s a whole estate. A mansion, surrounded by high walls, a courtyard, guards at every exit.”
My temples throbbed. The sky seemed too wide. The sun too sharp. I couldn’t look anywhere without feeling like I might unravel.
“Even if we get in,” he said, “we won’t make it out.”
“Then how do the girls get in?” I asked.
Will looked at me, almost in awe of the fact that there was still a trace of innocence in me.
“They don’t,” he explained. “They’re brought in. Sold or traded.”
I blinked, but the word echoed.
Traded.
“We’re nothing but silver and gold to them?”
“That’s how they see it.”
“Wait…” I said. “Traded how?”
”Some men lose everything at the tables. When they’ve got nothing left… they offer a girl. Bring one in, and the debt disappears.”
Kalani froze. Then she lifted a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with horror.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she whispered.
I felt it too. That sour bile rising up from somewhere deep.
The truth struck us all hard. The theater, the gentlemen’s club. Brothels and slavery. It wasn’t corruption, it wasn’t a glitch in the system.
It was the system. And if we wanted to break it, we couldn’t charge in through the front. We had to be the offer. The trade. The silver.
“That’s the kind of man you need to be.” I said.
He frowned. “What?”
“What if you owed them?” I said, looking at him and Aran. “What if you gambled, lost everything, and the only thing left to offer… was me?”
Aran sat up straighter, blinking. “I’m not following.”
But Kalani had gone still. Staring at me. She knew what I was saying before said it.
“That’s how we get in,” I said. “That’s the way.”
Will’s face twisted, panic spilling into his voice. “No. Absolutely not. Kera, that’s— No. You’ll be trapped. You’ll be—”
“I have to,” I cut in, already decided. “This is the only way. And you know it. And you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Kera…” Aran leaned forward, eyes locked on mine. “You don’t have to do this.”
I looked at him. Didn’t blink.
“I do,” I said. “If it’s the only way to get her out—then I do.”