Page 79 of Mind Maze

Her lashes flutter and her bottom lip begins to tremble. A low moan rattles from her throat. She tenses and panic makes her eyes flit back and forth.

“It’s okay,” I say calmly. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Fat tears well in her eyes and one spills over, bringing mascara in its trail on her cheek. The utter look of confusion mixed with horror haunts me to my core. I can’t imagine what’s going on through her mind right now.

“Do you know where you’re at?”

She squeezes her eyes shut and nods.

“I’ve screwed up,” she whispers, voice wobbling. “I joined that program and…” More tears race down her cheeks. “I did this to myself.”

“No,” I say firmly. “They deceived you. They lured you in with promises for a better life, but then they scrambled your mind and molded you into something else. It’s not your fault.”

She hugs her middle and shudders. “I quit school. What have I done?”

“Listen.” I pull her to me for a hug. “You’re going to leave this city, okay? Go back to Mississippi. Take some time off from school and then you can go back if you still want to. You haven’t ruined your life. It was almost taken from you.”

Megan sobs, soaking my shoulder with her tears. I hug her tightly, fighting my own tears. It feels like another lifetime ago we were giggling over the cute barista on campus while trying to figure out our conspiracy theory project. So much has changed since then. We certainly have.

“I don’t know what to do,” Megan admits in a raspy, dejected voice. “Everything feels so messed up.” She pushes away, flashing me a disgusted expression. “I lost my virginity to him, Romy. Your…”

My brother took advantage of her.

“It’s not your fault,” I say again. “What he did was reprehensible.”

“It felt right at the time,” she murmurs. “But now, as I look back, it was wrong. It was as if I was trained to say and do all the right things.” She looks down at her dress and sparkly wristlet purse. “I’m a prostitute. I traded my body for pretty clothes and a place to live.”

“No.” I grip her shoulders again. “Stop letting yourself think like that. You’re a victim. And you need to get out of here. I’m going to help you, okay?”

Relief shines in her eyes. “You’d help me? But he’s your brother.”

“You’re my friend.” I sigh sadly. “I’m here because of you. I left school to find you. All this happened because I was worried about you.”

I don’t go on to tell her the abuse I suffered in the process. She already feels bad enough.

“First of all,” I say, pulling away to peek into one of the stalls. “You need this.”

She takes the tissue I’ve pulled from the roll and starts to wipe her eyes. I shake my head.

“No, tear off pieces and plug your ears. I think you’re too vulnerable right now. If you hear that music…” I trail off, shrugging. “I don’t know what will happen. We can’t chance you forgetting what’s happened to you.”

Abject fear crosses over her features. She quickly rolls up a couple of pieces to plug her ears with, then she uses what’s left over to dry her eyes and cheeks.

“Do you have money?” I ask, hoping to God she does.

She holds up her wristlet. “I have my debit card. Bastian always buys everything for me, but I still bring it just in case. There’s only a few hundred in my account left over from my tuition grant for the semester.”

“You just need enough to purchase a bus ticket back home.”

“I’m really doing this,” she whispers. “Going home.”

“Only to regroup, Megan. Then you’re going to get back out there and have the life you originally dreamed of.”

Voices can be heard coming closer and we both stiffen. Two women enter the restroom, but they hardly notice us. One goes into a stall and the other checks her makeup in the mirror.

We need to go before Bastian comes looking for her.

I take hold of her hand and we exit the bathroom. More women are walking our way, but they pay us no mind. One hums the song that’s been playing on repeat. I shoot Megan a wary glance and she frowns. When we reach the end of the hallway that deposits us to the main event area, I stop and scan the crowd.

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