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KATIE STARED UP AT the ceiling as she listened to the other captives sleep. The tips of her fingers were chapped and raw. She wasn’t used to doing manual labor. The most intense job she’d ever had was at American Eagle Outfitters in high school. She never could’ve imagined how good she had it when she was folding flannel shirts four hours at a time.
Emma was right. The food Edgar brought down to them wasn’t gruel and when he spoke, it was in a soothing manner, like a foster parent talking to his children. Katie did her best to keep her head down and focused on her pasta. The one time she did raise her eyes from her plate to look at Edgar, she caught his piercing gaze.
From what she’d picked up in conversations throughout the day, all the other workers had been homeless runaways. They
