Page 114 of Isabela

The Lost Souls Foundation is dedicated to helping people who are or have been sexually trafficked, rebuild their lives. For those who are being trafficked, we need to find them first.

My uncle had a bunch of numbers next to each person’s name who had been sold at one of his silent auctions. The corresponding names, descriptions, and ages were in an encrypted file Madison and a few other hackers were able to access.

Now, we’re following the money, cameras to confirm identities, and any other auctions that are taking place, in the case that they are resold.

The Eagna Society are our backers as I sit on a private line today, waiting for a girl with curly red hair and brilliant blue eyes to be sold. Her name is Carly Rivers, but she’s lot number 245 today.

Swallowing thickly as I have the line muted, I look around the room. We’ve worked for two weeks to get this far, which is relatively faster progress than I expected, but it felt like pulling fingernails.

As someone who has watched this happen, I have to say the waiting was worse.

Everyone is watching the auction on their computer, brows furrowed as they wait for our lots to be called. I want to save everyone, but even the Society doesn’t have that kind of money.

There are actually three women and two young boys under the age of twenty-one, who are being auctioned, that my uncle is responsible for entering into the darkness of the human skin trade business.

The two young boys are now twelve and fifteen, and my uncle had them kidnapped on their way home. One of his clients wanted children of their description: curly dark hair, big green eyes, and light skinned. My skin crawls that they were kidnapped five years ago, and are now considered too old for their owner.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. This has to work. Please, please let me be able to outbid these other assholes.

“Next lot is number 245. We have a few private buyers looking for their menagerie,” the man who is directing this auction states. This is an in person auction, with the option to call in the bid.

Secretly, those who call in are known to be high stakes buyers, unable to risk attending an auction in person. Because of this, the auctions give the buyers that call in, first right of refusal. When I took apart the Cohen Literary Foundation, I didn’t make large waves in the world.

I made a statement that it was too much for me to continue the foundation in the wake of my uncle’s death. I also didn’t talk about the sex trafficking to the media, either. The police know, but stated they would allow me to continue my work when I showed up with Gael.

The Society has a lot of pull, and I don’t have a problem leaning on it if needed as a member.

“Miss C, the first lot you were interested in is up for auction now. She’s starting at fifty thousand dollars. Would you like to bid on her?” asks the woman who is my mediary for the auction.

Removing myself from mute, I state, “Yes, please, Susan.”

I doubt this is her real name, but this auction is all about the niceties, despite the fact that they’re selling sentient beings.

“Of course, Miss C,” she murmurs. I listen to her bid, and go back and forth until I decide to push for my final bid.

“One hundred thousand dollars, Susan,” I say softly into the phone. Everyone turns in unison in the room, sensing how close we are.

“She’s yours, Miss C,” Susan states, and I watch on the screen as a woman with a slicked back ponytail raises a black paddle, signaling the lot is closed.

The next two hours go in much the same way, though I’m warned that the boys will go for higher amounts of money, as there will be more interest for them. I won the bids for the three women that I came for, but now I just have one more bid to go. My stomach pitches in revulsion, and I take a sip of the water next to me, swallowing hard.

“I understand, Susan. They are beautiful,” I say cooly and calmly. Pressing my hand to my stomach, I beg for it to stop pitching. I feel as if I’m currently on a ship on angry waters.

The brothers are being sold together, as their previous owner asked for this. I listen to the opening bid, wincing. It’s a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Thankfully, my pockets are a lot deeper than they could ever be alone, so I wait as patiently as possible.

I bid four hundred thousand dollars at the end of the auction for the two boys, and Susan closes the lot. I feel lightheaded at the amount of money I just spent, but it’s worth it. Gael has three people at the auction to transport the five people who we were able to free today. One of them is a psychologist who will explain what’s happening.

God, I can’t even imagine what they’ll be thinking.

“Congratulations, Miss C. Can you transfer the funds for your lots now, or are you going to see if anything else catches your eye?” Susan asks.

I want to scream at the idea of people being bought and sold as possessions, but I’m so close to being able to hang up the phone.

“I think I’ve found what I came for, Susan,” I murmur. Glancing at Madison, I nod for her to send the money. It’s a wire transfer that can’t be connected to us. “The funds are being transferred now.”

A minute and a half later, Madison nods to tell me it’s through.

“Thank you, Miss C. We hope to do business with you in the future,” Susan says before she hangs up.

---