It’s a dressing room with long mirrors, vanity lights, and cheap rolling racks of clothes. Six women are inside, some sitting, some standing, some applying makeup with the precision of someone who’s done it a thousand times.
And they’re young. Too young. Barely college age. They’re dressed in club clothes that show too much skin, their expressions blank in the same way Sylvie’s was when I first saw her, like the lights are on, but the soul is nowhere to be found.
When one of them looks up and sees me, my heart skips a beat and my stomach drops, expecting her to start screaming for Kolya. And while her eyes flicker with the briefest moment of curiosity, the light fades just as quickly as it appeared, and they just look blank again.
“Don’t look in there,” Sylvie says. “Just keep moving.”
But I don’t listen. I can only stare, my heart clenching as I realize what I’m looking at.
“Who are they?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Kolya’s inventory. At least, that’s what he calls them.” There’s a quiet rage to her voice. “He’s got this club, another one in Brighton Beach, and his house in Long Island. He staffs them with girls he traffics. They do whatever he wants, whatever his clients want.”
I feel sick. She doesn’t need to go into further detail.
“Human trafficking is his specialty. Young women, mostly. Says he’s been doing it for years.”
“We have to help them.”
“We have to helpourselves.” She grabs my elbow and pulls me away from the door. “Listen. If we get out, we can come back with Gabriel, with his people. We can get enough firepower to shut this whole operation down and put Kolya in the ground. But if we get caught now, those girls won’t have a chance, and neither will we.”
She’s right. My eyes linger on the strip of light coming from the dressing room.
“Come on. We have to move.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
I swallow hard, then start moving again. The corridor narrows as we get close to Kolya’s office. Sylvie slows and puts a finger to her lips. I can see the door ahead on the right. It’s closed, but light pours through from underneath.
I can hear his voice.
“I want her gone before Moretti’s people have time to organize. The cousin is a complication, yes, but Petrov won’t move without Gabriel’s blessing and Gabriel won’t move without knowing where she is. We’ve got time, more than enough to cripple him.”
Another voice I can only assume is Sasha’s.
“And the girl? The baby?”
A pause. Then Kolya chuckles. “What girl? What baby?”
Evil, awful laughter follows. I press my hand against my stomach. Sylvie wraps her fingers around my wrist and squeezes.
We creep past. Soon, we’re within sight of a gray door at the end of the corridor, a big EXIT sign above it.
We reach the door. Sylvie puts her hand on the push bar and looks at me.
“Ready?”
I nod.
She pushes and we spill out into the night.
I start shivering the second the cold air hits me. The night sky is deep and dark above. I have no idea what time it is. My heart is beating so fast, it hurts. The alley is dark and narrow, with dumpsters on one side, a chain-link fence on the other.
I can see the street beyond in the distance, cars zipping past at the far end of the alley.
“Come on,” I say over my shoulder to Sylvie. “We’re so close.”
I move farther down the alley, the relief so intense, I can hardly stand it. I can’t believe we’re almost free. My eyes sting and my throat aches. My feet have to be caked with a layer of dirt an inch thick at this point.