To Find Something True

※ fifty-six

[A/N: italicized – past event]

(!) trigger warning (!)
mentions of blood, sexual harassment, human trafficking, abusive relationship, death.

(!)
this chapter contains disturbing scenes & descriptions.

please read this chapter with caution or skip the italicized scenes if necessary.

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Amber kept her stare ahead, not saying a word yet. The long silence in the car had Jiah sighing out of anxiety. She was anxious, imagining what had happened to her mother. She forced herself to look out of the window as tears pooled in her eyes.

"My mother is dead too, right?" Jiah asked, her voice shaky. The silence had failed to conceal the distressing moan that she had been trying to hold back. She closed her eyes, and her tears finally escaped. Her face twisted, whimpering.

"I'm sorry," Amber breathed. "It's difficult to tell Hoseok about his sister. It's even more difficult for me to tell you."

Jiah faced her and sobbed, "you could've just told me!"

"The hope and kindness in your eyes scare me. It makes me feel guilty to tell you sooner," Amber said, looking down at her hands. One of her arms was tattooed. "Even now."

Turning her head to shift her gaze elsewhere, Jiah allowed more tears to flow down, more sobs escaping her mouth.

One of the reasons she had been working hard was her mother. She wanted to gather as much as she could to settle the debts before flying to the States to find her mother. But now, it meant nothing. Almost nothing.

Jiah's voice came out nasally when she said, "tell me what you know."

Amber glanced at her, and another long silence surrounded them.

"Tell me!" Jiah shouted.

"Her heart was failing," Amber said calmly after exhaling a sigh. "The record said your mother died on the spot. She was the one who drove the car."

**********

Dim, red, and musty, yet there was a strong smell of sweet, enticing fragrance emitted around the place. She recognized it was a fragrant lotion. Her hands held the books tightly as she walked with her boyfriend behind. The tall man's lazy yet sharp stare bore into her back, pressuring her to keep moving.

A group of five women in bodycon dresses, short skirts barely reaching their knees, passed by. Behind them was a skinny Korean man with a cigarette bud between his index and middle finger. "Walk faster!" the man shouted, and it startled Jiwoo.

"What is this place?" Jiwoo asked Soohyuk, cowardly looking at him.

"See? I told you. You don't need your books," Soohyuk said.

Just as they reached the end of the corridor, there were two big, brown, wooden doors. One of them opened ajar, encouraging Soohyuk's arm to pass her shoulder and push the door wider. Forced to step in, her view was then greeted by a big number of women in a wide space. Most of them were in tattered and torn clothes, some only in body towels, while others were still fine in their clothes; all looking scared and nervous.

She was not fond of how the room smelled. A mix of sweat and perfume. Not to mention, something smelled like iron. Looking around, that was when she caught three women on the floor bleeding at the end of the room; bruises and fresh wounds on their faces and bodies. One of the women was only in her brassiere and underpants, a big bruise on her stomach, lying unconscious.