Trafficked -- Beaten -- Trapped
When eighteen-year-old Stacy Degray sets off to visit Felipe, a charming guy she met on the internet, she has no idea that she is being lured to his home country Malaguay to be auctioned off as a soldier's bride. All...
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The next two days stretch on forever; they are filled with boredom and uncertainty, though I finally get over my bug. Just before dinner, Raine strolls into our room. She holds out a piece of paper. "Here. This is for you."
I unfold the note, unable to hide a grin. It's from Felipe; I recognize his handwriting from the postcard he sent.
Meet me one flight down, second room on the left from the end. It's number sixteen.
He must have come home and probably wanted to take a shower, or maybe he was tired and needed a nap before meeting up with me. We can cuddle a little or go out for dinner.
Humming under my breath, I grab a fresh towel out of my suitcase and hop into the shower. Squirtingthe expensive shower oil into my palm that leaves my skin especially soft, mymood improves as I lather up. I softly sing, biting my lip. I draw a heart onthe wet, steamed-up tile. I can't wait to snuggle in his arms and an excitedsurge runs through my body.
I dry off and hurry to spread body lotion all over my skin. When I get back to the room, Raine is stretched out on the bed. She has her book open and doesn't appear to leave anytime soon. Getting into my light blue summer dress takes some acrobatics and a few times, the towel almost slips. Raine smirks and shakes her head. The other day, I almost died when both she and Bettina changed their shirt right in front of me, displaying their boobs without the slightest reservation. I can't even stand it if they see me in my underwear, but dressing in the damp shower stall isn't ideal either.
I curl my hair while I dry it, focusing on the tips to give them a natural bounce. The ends are starting to split and I'll need a trim when I get home. Rummaging through the bag with my duty-free purchases, I pull out the mascara to draw attention to my naturally curved eyelashes, the only part I find remotely pretty about myself.
After applying a thin layer of lip gloss, I'm ready to face Felipe. Walking along the corridor, I hum under my breath and my cheeks hurt from smiling. My heart is beating louder and louder with every step. When I get to the door and knock, my whole body trembles with excitement.
No one answers and I knock again. Finally, a boy who couldn't be much older than fourteen opens the door. Almost lazily, his gaze roams over me.
I try to peek around him. "Is this Felipe's room?"
I take his stepping aside as confirmation and eagerly cross the threshold. When he closes the door behind me, I spin around, my brows knitting together. I expected him to leave to give Felipe and me some privacy.
"Where's Felipe?"
In response, he turns the key in its lock.
I take a step back. "I asked where Felipe is?" My voice has risen slightly. My gaze flicks to the windows but like all the other ones in the compound, bars block a possible escape.
"Felipeno vendrá." He points to his chest. "Soy Charo."
"I don't understand. I want to know where Felipe is."
