*CHAPTER FIVE* The night was loud with city sounds. Cars honking, music thudding from clubs, laughter that felt like mockery. Tamar lit a cigarette she didn’t intend to finish. Just something to do with her hands. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she stood a few feet away from the hotel entrance, waiting. She didn’t know what for. Then she saw her. A girl. No older than fifteen, standing by the curb, trembling in a cheap dress and flats too big for her feet. Her fingers twisted around the strap of her tiny bag, eyes darting to the hotel door. Tamar knew that look. She approached slowly. “You waiting for someone?” The girl flinched. “No… yes… no… I mean…” She sighed. “I’m supposed to meet someone inside. My aunt said he… he paid for me.” Tamar’s breath caught in her throat. Paid. It wasn’t new. But it never stopped stinging. “What’s your name?” “Manda,” the girl said, voice small. “She said I just need to do it once and then he’ll help pay for school.” Tamar’s jaw tightened. “Come,” she said. “Take me to him.” Manda hesitated, but Tamar’s voice wasn’t asking. Inside the hotel, they rode the elevator to the fifth floor. Manda pointed to a door. And Tamar knocked. A man opened it. He looked like he was in his forties, maybe older. Wearing cologne and entitlement. He smiled, signaling Manda to come in. Tamar didn’t smile. “She’s not coming in.” He scoffed. “And who are you?” “Someone who knows what this is,” Tamar said, pulling out cash. “Take this. Double what you paid. And forget her name.” He looked between the girl and Tamar. “Unless you’re the one replacing her…” Tamar stared him down. “Then get on the bed.” Manda gasped. “No…wait—” Tamar touched her shoulder gently. “Go wait downstairs.” It didn’t take long. It never did. She didn’t cry. When it was over, she stood, got dressed, and left without a word. Outside, Manda waited with red eyes and a hundred questions. Tamar didn’t answer any. She took the girl’s hand and walked, till Manda couldn’t bear the silence again. “Why did you do that?” Her voice trembled. “Do what?” “That!” she pointed towards the direction of the hotel. “Would you have done it instead?” Manda said nothing. She continued walking. “What if my auntie sends me again?” Her voice broke, but Tamar’s heart broke even more. She stopped walking. She turned to look at the girl. She looked so small, so scared, so heartbreakingly familiar. “She won’t,” Tamar said. “How do you know?” Manda asked. “Because you’re not going back.” The words hung in the air, heavier than anything Tamar had said in months. But for once, she meant it. There would be no going back, not for this girl, not if Tamar had anything to do with it. They walked in silence after that. No more questions. Just the quiet hum of the night and the shared ache between two souls who had been robbed of too much, too soon. When they reached Tamar’s apartment, Manda hesitated at the door. “You can come in,” Tamar said. “You’re safe here.” Manda stepped inside. Her eyes scanned the room. It looked simple and clean, with very little in it. It wasn’t much, but it felt safe. Tamar moved around, packing her clothes into a duffel bag, folding what she could, stuffing the rest. There was no hesitation in her movements. Manda watched her, puzzled. “You’re leaving?” Tamar nodded. “We’re leaving.” “Where?” “Anywhere but here.” “But… why?” Tamar zipped the bag. “Because if we stay, your auntie might find us. And then, this cycle continues. You’d become me.” Manda’s eyes welled up. “You don’t even know me.” Tamar looked at her. “I do. I was you.” Manda stared in confusion. Tamar grabbed her passport, a little cash, and tucked it deep into her coat. She didn’t know where exactly they were going, but she knew how to get there. She’d done this before. She could it again. For Manda. As they locked the door behind them, Tamar felt something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Hope. And maybe security. She didn’t know what tomorrow held. But for the first time, she wasn’t running alone, neither was she running for herself. And that, she was proud of. “What’s your name?” Manda asked, her eyes glassy. Tamar stared for a long while and answered. “To the world, Flora. But I’d rather have you call me, Tamar.” …