shares her story, and her strength is astounding.
"A few years later, when I was ten, my mom was working off my father’s debt in the backseat of an Impala while I sat in the front seat with my headphones on, and there was a knock on the window. Standing outside of the car was a female police officer. She was nice enough, but she did pull me out of the car and had me wait with another officer as she pulled my mom and the man that had been paying her for sex—with her child in the front seat—out of the car."
She finally looks at me, and the hurt I see looking back at me is shattering me to pieces. My instinct is to hold her, but I know that I need to stay on my side of the couch. I can see the water in her eyes, but she doesn't shed a tear. Her strength is remarkable, and surprisingly she shares the rest of her story.
"When the officer told her they were going to take me away, she said, 'Good, take her. She's nothing but a pain in my ass anyway.' Those were the last words I ever heard my mom speak. She never came for me. Never looked for me or sent a letter. Nothing. That was it."
"Olivia..."
She puts me off and keeps talking, and I shut my mouth and let her stay the course. She's looking off into the distance again.
"I was put into the system and went from foster home to foster home. I was too old for anyone to really be interested in me. I was a gawky ten-year-old, not little and adorable. I was never adopted. Some of my foster parents were okay and some weren't. When I turned sixteen, I went to court to emancipate myself and was on my own from then on. I went to high school, worked multiple jobs, and got through it. I went to community college and got my associates degree, but I'm still paying off my student loans for the other two years when I went to Oregon State and got my bachelors. I worked my way through, but it was barely enough to have campus housing and food in my stomach."
This woman is more than I could ever have imagined. I feel like I haven't accomplished a thing in my life compared to all she has done and all by herself. Her eyes are clear and confident again, and she looks at me with a small smile.
"With what you're paying me, I'll have those loans paid off in no time flat. So, thank you for that."
I nod my head in reply, not wanting to speak in case she had more to say. Not that I'm sure I can take anymore. My need to rescue her is screaming in my head, but as I look at the woman in front of me, it's clear she doesn't need anyone to rescue her. She's already rescued herself.
Her joke about what I'm paying her seems to have shaken off the cloud of memories that had taken her over for a few minutes, and her eyes widen when she says, "Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry. I don't usually share this part of my life. It must be the wine. I hope I didn't over share. I'm sure you got a lot more than you bargained for."
"Olivia, don't be sorry for a single second. I'm honored you would trust me enough to share your story." Even if I do feel like she left some important details out.
"Moving to San Francisco is probably a good thing too. I feel like I'm always looking over my shoulder. I know it's all in my head, but sometimes I think if I can just keep moving, it’ll be harder for those old ghosts to haunt me."
"You should never have to live in fear, Olivia. If there is anything at all that I can do, if you have security concerns, just let me know. Don't hesitate to ask." Hell, I may just hire my own team of people to find these assholes from her past and take care of those old ghosts myself.
"Thank you, that's very kind, but there's no need for that."
"Does your boyfriend know your story and that you fear for your safety?"
"Bryce and I don't talk a lot, especially about feelings. It doesn't matter, though. We aren't together anymore." She shrugs her shoulders, and I feel like the wind has been knocked