Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next morning as the sun’s first rays illuminated the city, Franklin parked his car at the rear of the Harrison laundry. Elena sat beside him, silent, still in a state of shock. She whimpered but didn’t resist when Franklin hustled her into the building and up a steel staircase to his mother’s office on the mezzanine.
Elena had never been in the Harrison laundry. It was dull and dingy with block walls painted glossy gray. The acrid scents of bleach and detergent hung in the air. The rhythmic thrum emanating from rows of washing machines made it hard to hear. High above Elena, huge bags of laundry hung suspended from a slow moving conveyor. Nearly hidden in the shadowy ceiling, Elena caught a glimpse of hanging wicker-framed cages and wondered what purpose they se
