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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Trigger warning: This chapter includes an SA scene. It will be marked within the text, so please skip if this material could be upsetting to you.
Over the next few weeks, Miguel is in a rotten mood without any apparent reason. A few times, I carefully probe to get to the source, but his angry glare, demanding I mind my own business, immediately shuts me up. Nothing is left of the charming man who once dazzled me, and I stay out of his way as much as possible. Luckily, his work requires his full attention. Most evenings, he doesn't return to the mansion until just before dinner; his busy schedule even keeps him from visiting his Nana.
I return to my patrol duty with Tomás, who watches me like a hawk, and after my shifts, I hang out by the pool with Naiara or stay at the compound. Shauna isn't around much, putting our escape plans on hold.
One evening, when I ask Miguel if I can send my mom an email for her birthday, he slaps me across the face, which I take as a no. After that, I walk on eggshells around him. Taking Shauna's approach to keep quiet unless spoken to works surprisingly well, and I withdraw into my own little world. Mealtimes especially become an excruciating affair. Miguel glares sullenly while Naiara entertains the whole table with her chitchat; she's planning a trip to Miami to shop for her summer wardrobe. I don't even bother to ask my fiancé if I can tag along, certain the answer won't be in the affirmative.
After a month, Tomás finally stops going on patrol, making me once again troop leader with Emilien as my trusted translator. When we climb onto the truck, he finds the farthest seat away from me, and on our way into the city, he ignores me. I worry about his odd behavior. What if Miguel or Tomás threatened him? Yet for the moment, I can't deal with it, my mind occupied with my own scheming. Today's rounds will be the perfect opportunity to visit Shauna.
We get to the town square and I give out the assignments, instructing Emilien to keep an eye on things. He nods his agreement; when I take off, he doesn't question me. Shauna said she lives only three blocks away from the church and I find the house on Calle St. Andrés without any issues. Her and Tomás's home is in an area reserved for higher-level soldiers, and the powder blue bungalow looks spacious with several dormers set in the roof. When I push open the squeaky gate to the front yard, Shauna's face appears in the window. Her lips split into a wide grin.
She opens the door, her gaze darting to the left and right a few times as I step inside. The house is cool and a light scent of pine lingers in the air. Everything is tidy and spotless; it reminds me more of a museum where you aren't allowed to touch anything rather than a home.
Shauna ushers me into the kitchen and offers to prepare tea. She seems spooked, flinching a few times by a sudden noise from the outside, and her hand shakes as she adds water to an old-fashioned iron kettle.
"You okay?" I ask.
She sniffles, the back of her hand wiping her nose. A little bit of dried blood has crusted around her nostrils. "It has been hell. I'm still not pregnant and Tomás is starting to freak out. I'm not allowed to leave the house anymore unless it's with him or his sister. She comes over every day to check up on me and teach me Spanish. At night—"
