Geneva
The kids look terrified. They probably think they bet their last chance on someone who wouldn’t hesitate to betray them with the snap of a finger. I know because I’ve been in this position more times than not, I know what it is to be sold out to the highest bidder by the person you expected to give you hope. To be trapped when your only way out means death.
The boy, whose name I still don’t know, still has this defiance to him, this reluctance to give up. He’s a fighter, this one. Not older than twenty, tall and lean, with those thick eyebrows, scrunched in challenge at me, his face twisted in hatred and disgust, and fear. So much fear for his little sister. Probably for his older brother as well. If what they said. And that’s a big if.
“You said you’d help us!” Cassy shouts, loo
