including one who had six toes on her right foot.”
I laughed hard. It felt good to laugh, considering a week ago I didn’t know if I ever would laugh again. Devin kept me occupied laughing most of the morning. Around noon, we stopped to stretch our legs, and I checked on Tamara. She was sitting in the grass away from the other women, watching a butterfly hovering over a wildflower. I counted twelve women. Twelve girls that would never be beaten, sold, or trafficked again.
“Tamara.”
She looked up at me and smiled. “I thought I was dreaming. That it was just a horrible dream, and I kept telling myself that it’s all right. One day I’ll wake up from it.” She reached for the butterfly, but it flew away. “But it wasn’t a dream, was it?”
I kneeled next to her and gently placed my hand on her shoulder. “No, it was real.”
“I can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream anymore. Is this . . . right now . . . real, or a dream?”
“Real,” I said, my heart breaking for her.
She picked a flower, brought it to her nose and inhaled. “I hoped so.” She turned and gave me a hopeful smile. “One soldier told me we are going to a duke’s house this evening, and they’ll be helping us return home.” Her smile faded.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just don’t know if I want to return home, yet. I don’t know if I can face my family. How do I explain what happened? They’ll look at me differently. Think I’m less. They’ll know.” Her thin hands covered her face in shame. “I can’t face them.”
I grasped her hands and I repeated the words of wisdom my sisters had spoke to me when I was attacked by Tobias and Clive. The day that Armon was killed. The guilt I felt—the shame. It was the same. “Tamara, you were the victim. You did nothing wrong. What happened to you was against your will, and it’s in the past. That incident does not define you. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Do you understand me? You’re strong, beautiful, and full of wisdom. You have a bright future ahead of you. It’s just going to take a few things.”
“What’s that?” she asked hesitantly.
“Time. It will take time to heal here.” I touched her heart. “And here.” I pointed to her temple. “And you’ll need courage to face the future, for the road to recovery isn’t easy, but with the right people by your side—whether family or friends—I see no reason you can’t have a normal life. You’re a survivor, and all the stronger for it. If you need anything, I’m here.” I realized as I said the words, they were not only for her benefit—I needed to hear them as well.
Tamara’s eyes filled with tears. She reached for me and sobbed loudly. I hugged her as she began the first step in her healing process. I ran my hands over her hair comfortingly.
We sat like that until her sobs ebbed away, and the pain lessened. It wasn’t gone fully. There would still be feelings of guilt. Even though she was the victim, she carried a heavy load, and there would be self-esteem struggles she would have to overcome. They all would. No one could bounce back quickly from any kind of abuse. It’s a long healing process, and they would need understanding and patience from family and a powerful support group.
Tamara sniffed, wiped her nose. “Maybe the lord would hire us on as servants . . . until I’m ready to go home.”
“Maybe.”
“I hope so. It would be nice to make new memories. Ones that didn’t include that place.”
I closed my eyes and was grateful that I couldn’t feel all of her previous painful memories. I didn’t experience the horrors she lived through, nor could I fully comprehend them. I had only been there a week, and others were there for much longer. I desperately wanted to reach out and take that pain from her. Make it vanish. With my powers gone, I couldn’t do that. But I could help her on her new journey, one of healing. So I did what Eden would do for me when the mental and emotional turmoil of crowds overwhelmed me. I was present with her, and patient.
I listened to Tamara talk of her dreams. She wanted to open a pastry shop one day, get married, and have little children running around.
“But do you think any man will