Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
When I smile at him, words beyond my ability, he does his famous flip-the-conversation-on-its-head ruse. “You were also right about your hunch while giving your speech.” He waves his hand at the glove compartment. When I open it, a file that a plain-clothed gentleman handed Grayson a second after he placed our bags into the trunk falls into my lap. “Sidney Fullick, a San Francisco native, traveled to Belize multiple times this year with two male associates. On the returning flight manifests, the guests who accompanied them on each trip are never mentioned.”
“How old are their victims?” I ask, too impatient to flick through the extensive file.
“Mid to late teens.” He gives me a minute to settle the swirls of my stomach with a handful of swallows before he continues. “We’ve placed an undercover on a flight Sidney scheduled to Belize tomorrow morning. He will follow them to their location and hopefully get us some answers.”
I sigh, relieved at how fast Grayson works when he gets a hunch.
With one touchy subject down, he moves on to another. “How are you feeling?”
“Cramped,” I murmur, my tone honest. We still have hours left on the road, but I already can’t feel my ass.
His laughter warms my chest. “I meant more about your speech… and perhaps your knuckles. You don’t slap open-palmed, do ya?”
As I glance at my swollen knuckles, I exhale deeply. “I’m a little worried.”
“Your hand isn’t broken. It will take more than cracking through a slab of silicone to break it.”
Now it’s my turn to giggle. “Not about the hit.” I twist my torso to face him, pulling the belt away from my stomach in the process. It’s been digging in for the last fifty miles. “About my speech and whether it will ruffle feathers.”
Grayson nods in agreement. “It will ruffle feathers, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” He glances at me, his expression both serious and playful. “Your Liam Neeson–inspired speech is already circulating on social media sites. People are talking about it and sharing it. Your sister’s name is out there, being spoken by the masses. That’s got to be a good thing.”
The idea of strangers judging my words makes me anxious, yet I agree with Grayson. Any publicity is good if it helps bring my sister home. The more people talk about her, the more likely it is to occur.
But I’m also worried. I’ve kept my name off any file that could disclose a conflict of interest. If the news spreads too far, it could have me removed from the case even faster than giving birth in bureau headquarters.
Too tired to consider the what-ifs, I murmur, “Hopefully it leads to something.”
“It will.” Grayson’s slumped shoulders straighten, proud of the conviction in his tone. “You did the right thing, freckles. And I’m here with you, every step of the way.”
Though relieved, I still seek a life raft. “I’ll remind you of that when the hierarchies come bearing down on us.”
He laughs again, unbothered. His lack of concern fills me with confidence that maybe things won’t be as bad as they seem. I’m technically on leave, so any clapback won’t occur until I return from maternity leave. Fingers crossed Kendall is found long before then.
We drive in comfortable silence for a while, the miles slipping away as we head toward the shitshow waiting for us. I keep replaying the looks of shock and curiosity people gave me. The situation was unpleasant, but having Grayson on my side made it bearable.
Although it was painful, standing up to my parents feels like a significant shift for me. I’m no longer the obedient daughter they expect me to be. I’m my own person, and I am proud of that.
As we continue down the freeway, I pull out my phone. To kill the boredom of a long trip before it is my turn to drive, I browse social media sites.
My heart rate kicks up when I scroll through the posts and comments about my speech. It’s both encouraging and surprising to see so much support for an often overlooked cause.
They tend to stay silent because they feel the shame the victims shouldn’t have, but instead of acknowledging how onerous that burden must be, they try to accept some of the load on their behalf.
That isn’t the correct action to take.
If you want to help liberate a woman from her trauma, teach her that she has nothing to be ashamed of. Show her she did nothing wrong. Love her no matter what she went through. And when the time is right, be the shoulder she needs to cry on.
That’s what Grayson did for me after Arrow Moses assaulted me, and it is what I will do for Kendall when she finally comes home.
The more I scroll, the more messages of encouragement from people missing their loved ones I uncover. It is encouraging to see that victims’ voices are now being heard internationally.