Page 11

"Who, Fate? Who!"

"Destiny," I scream, but the crack in my voice makes it barely a whisper. "Destiny. Where is she?"

"I'm coming there. Don't move. I'm coming. If anyone can find her, it's us. It’ll be okay. I'm coming for you."

He's still talking when the phone slips from my hands and thumps on the worn carpet. The room seems to spin, her life, her things rotating around me, laughing and taunting.

I flatten out the note and read it again, this time scrutinizing every word. The handwriting is hers. The excitement is hers. But the verbiage, the presentation of how her life will be with this stranger, is one I've seen before. The promise of a better life, of love and not being able to say goodbye are typical tactics of predators luring unknowing victims to a life completely opposite of the one they promise.

Even after all I’ve seen, I don’t understand how the victims could fall for it, but they do. The person so good at their evil craft, the lies spun so beautifully that their victims have no idea of the trap that’s been set specifically for them.

Bile rises in my throat at the images of her being subjected to the type of cruelty the men I've spent the last few years capturing are capable of.

Anger builds, replacing the worry and sadness.

Deep hate and anger at the person who took advantage of a lonely high school girl.

The tears cease.

The room stops spinning.

With a calm hand, I grab her favorite stuffed animal from the floor. In this moment, just me in the quiet of her room, I vow to the stuffed Olaf in my hands that I'll get her back, that she will come home. And then whoever did this, whoever convinced my sweet, innocent sister to leave, I'll hunt down and make them pay. I have no idea how, but it will happen.

Shoving the oversized snowman against my face, I scream until my lungs bleed and I have no voice left.