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“I get it.” She crossed one knee over the other. “I won’t even begin to say that I know how you feel because I don’t. But just know that any of us here are always willing to listen or just sit with you, even if you don’t want to talk.”

Talk. I hadn’t talked in years because I had never been allowed to. He preferred it that way. Although he liked when we called him Master, he much preferred to hear our screams instead. It was one reason I stopped making a single sound. It almost cost me my life a few times, but I refused to give him that satisfaction. I needed some sort of control over my life, even if it was something small like the use of my voice.

“There’s a reason I called you here,” Jay said, flipping through my file.

I nodded again because I didn’t want to be rude. It wasn’t her fault I turned out this way. Silent. Mute. It was theirs. The men who had taken me and others captive. The monsters who would forever haunt my nightmares. The bastard who organized it all. If I could get my hands on him and knew I would survive, I would kill him.

“How about you just let me talk, explain myself, and we’ll go from there,” she added.

I nodded and looked down at my hands. American Sign Language was my way of communicating. The silent language had always fascinated me, so I learned it as a child and thankfully became fluent before I was taken. I never knew how much I needed this language until now.

I sighed, knowing that some of the fuckers who took us were able to get away. I gave the cops whatever information I had, but I didn’t let it occupy my thoughts all the time. I couldn’t dwell on it because I knew that no matter what, sex trafficking would never end.

Jay stood from her chair behind the large oak desk in her office. She went up to the window that looked out onto the back of the compound. “I was kidnapped by my husband’s boss.”

My eyes widened at her words.

“I was found rather quickly but it still fucked with my head.” She looked at me then, the lines on her face hardening as the memories rushed through her. “Now, I know it’s still not the same as what you went through of course, but I just want you to know you aren’t alone. Everyone here has their own story. Don’t ever forget it.”

I looked down at my hands on my lap, nodding slightly. I wanted to thank her with my words, but I couldn’t. The doctors and therapists said it was due to the trauma I endured. Maybe so. But I had never been a talker. Even before everything happened. I liked being quiet and preferred to stay in the background, listening to everyone else. I hated being the center of attention. It was one of the reasons why learning ASL meant so much to me.

“I want you to know that you always have a home here. You have made so much progress since you arrived. I’m proud of you. Now, last month, per your request, we set you up with an apartment at the building run by our staff. You were also given a monthly allowance as well,” Jay stated, heading back to her desk. She opened my file once again, glancing down at it before meeting my gaze once again.

I nodded.

“Do you feel safe at your apartment? If not, we can keep your room here. I can’t imagine that things feel even remotely normal when it’s only been eighteen months since...”

I winced, forcing myself not to let those dark thoughts invade my mind.

“Do you feel safe there, Ainsley?” she asked gently.

I shrugged. Truth was, I didn’t feel safe anywhere.

“You probably don’t feel safe anywhere, do you?” she asked, taking the thought right out of my head.

I looked down at my hands, shrugging again.

“Okay. It’s settled. We will keep your room here for when you need to feel more secure. Now the reason I wanted to speak to you is because we’d like to offer you a job. If you wish.”

My head snapped up, my eyes welling at the thought of making something more of myself.

She laughed lightly. “I can tell by the look on your face that you weren’t expecting that.”

I shook my head quickly.

“Although, we often communicate in writing, you are fluent in American Sign Language. According to your file, you learned it as a kid but only started using it consistently after you were rescued.”

Rescued.

I almost scoffed at that single word. Sure, I, along with others, were saved from those men, but there were so many of us who weren’t. Some committed suicide because they couldn’t handle being out in the real world. Years of conditioning were so engrained in us, we didn’t know how to cope without being told what to do. It was fucked up to say the least.

Picking up my phone, I started typing. It was the way I communicated with people when they didn’t know ASL. Not that I expected everyone to know it of course, but it was a nice surprise when I came across someone who did. Jay even provided me with a therapist who could communicate with me using ASL.

I was sick one summer when I was a kid and couldn’t play outside. I read every book in my grandmother’s house a handful of times. She always told me I was too smart for my own good. Maybe she was right.

One night over dinner, she and my grandpa were talking about ways to challenge me. I was acting out because I was bored. Whatever virus I had, just wouldn’t go away no matter what we tried.

My grandpa suggested jokingly that I learn another language.