as to what to say. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “They wanted all of us to know so we did not start getting ideas about rebelling.”
I swallowed, trying to wrap my head around all this. “Rebelling against what? I don’t understand.”
“You need to go now,” she said, trying to shut the door, but I shoved my foot in the crack. “Please tell me what’s going on,” I said. “Maybe I can help you.”
“So they kill me, too? No thank you.” She tried to force the door closed again.
“Tania trusted me,” I persisted. “Is she in danger? Tell me that much at least. Please. I want to warn her.”
That seemed to give her pause. I held my breath, waiting. The eye surveying me blinked once; then the door shut and I heard the rattle of a chain before it opened all the way.
“Fine,” she said curtly, allowing me inside. She peered past my shoulder at the empty hallway as though to make sure we were alone, then closed and locked the door before turning to me, looking me over intently from head to foot.
Her face was strained, the lines around her mouth making her seem older than she probably was, which couldn’t have been much past her early twenties. Her hair was long and dark like mine, our height about the same.
She led me to a couch that had seen better days, the cushions tired and flat. One leg was missing so a telephone book was propped underneath it to hold it up. I gingerly sat, hoping it would hold my weight. She sat next to me.
“I’m Hanna,” she said. “You want to know so badly, then I will tell you. There are several of us. Not just Tania and Niki. We were born in Donetsk, in the Ukraine. It is hard there, not many jobs, especially for women. We heard of a way to come to America where we could work as maids to pay for our passage. Many came, but it was a lie. They made us prostitutes, the cartel, here in Chicago. Told us they would kill us if we did not do as they said. So…we did.”
It was hard to wrap my head around. The idea of being forced to become a prostitute or die seemed as foreign to me as the name of the city in which Hanna said they’d been born.
“Couldn’t you leave?” I asked. “Run away somewhere else?”
“To where? We had no money, no food, did not speak English. We did what we had to do to survive.” Her chin came up at this, defiant.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s hard for me to understand, but I want to help you.”
Hanna shook her head. “There is nothing you can do. The men who control us, all of us, they are powerful, evil men.”
“Why don’t you come with me?” I asked. “I can take you to a place with people who can help you. They won’t find you.”
A panicked look came over her face and she shook her head. “I cannot. There is no place to hide. The police—they turn a blind eye. They are like police in Russia, get paid by the mob bosses to look the other way.”
“Not all of them are like that,” I said, thinking of Ryker. But she just shook her head again.
“I cannot.”
She seemed resolute, so I just nodded. “Okay. But take my phone number, okay? In case you change your mind. Just call me and I’ll help you.” I jotted my number down on a scrap of paper from my purse and gave it to her.
Hanna hesitated, gingerly taking the paper from me. “Why would you do that?”
“Because,” I said. “I’d like to help you any way you’ll let me.”
“All right.” She still looked skeptical, as though she had no intention of ever calling, but didn’t want to be outwardly rude, either.
I stood to go and she did, too, walking me to the door.
“Be careful,” she said as I left. “It is a dangerous neighborhood for a woman alone.”
Yeah, tell me something I didn’t know.
The envelope felt like it was burning a hole in my purse. I wondered what I should do with it. It was sealed, and though it had occurred to me to open it, I hadn’t.
I quickly found that it was impossible to get a cab to stop, when I actually saw one. They passed me by like I was invisible. I had to actually call for a cab, but I was told they wouldn’t be there