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A light tap tap on Charlotte Cavanaugh’s open office door drew her attention away from the documents she was reviewing. Mitzi, one of the admins on the party committee, stood in the doorway. She held a white envelope and had a somewhat sheepish look on her face.

Charlotte instantly knew what that meant.

“Let me guess, it’s someone’s birthday?” She rolled her chair toward her credenza, opened it, and pulled her wallet from her messenger bag.

“Not quite—Mike is retiring.” Mitzi laughed. “Friday is his last day, and I thought it would be nice to get him a cake.”

“Really?” Charlotte snapped open her wallet and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “I hadn’t heard he was retiring.” She held out the bill, and Mitzi stepped into her office.

Not that her being in the dark about what was happening in the office was a unique situation. Charlotte was out of the office as much as she was in the office. When she was there, she was usually knee-deep in catching up on paperwork.

“Yeah, he announced it two weeks ago. He’s the seventh person to leave in three months.” She accepted the money and slid it into the envelope. “Thanks. I know you’re super busy, but do you have a minute to chat?”

“Sure, come on in.” Charlotte saved her work and closed the confidential case file she’d been reviewing.

She was a therapist and victim advocate with the Human Rescue Alliance. HRA was a nonprofit, nongovernmental organization, an NGO, that provided support to victims of human trafficking.

One of her many responsibilities was to meet with the people running their intake facilities and train them on how to work with unaccompanied children who come across the border. Her favorite part of the job, and the most rewarding, was when she was able to sit down one-on-one with the children and young adults who’d been rescued from human trafficking. She would listen to their stories and create a unique treatment plan for each person to help them process what they had been through and what they would be facing in the future.

Mitzi quietly shut the door, hurried over to one of the chairs in front of Charlotte’s desk, and plopped down.

“Do you think all those people who left know something we don’t know?” Her words came out rapid-fire fast. “I mean, why would so many people be leaving suddenly? Should I start looking for another job? Do you know anything?”

Her coworker was sweet as can be, but she could also be quite dramatic and—to use one of Charlotte’s Great Aunt Marjorie’s words—Mitzi could also be a bit of a fretter. She always seemed to be worried about something or someone.

“First off, HRA isn’t going anywhere.” Unfortunately, human trafficking was a growing industry, and there was a desperate need for organizations like HRA. “Secondly, it’s very easy to get burnt out in this business. When that happens, it’s best to move on or else it can have a negative impact on the overall mission. I think you’ll find that the number of people leaving is pretty typical for our industry.”

Mitzi was young, only twenty, and as a level-two admin in the human resources department, she didn’t really deal with the ugly side of their business the way Charlotte and some others did.

“You are an asset to this organization.” Charlotte smiled and tried to lighten the mood. “Besides, you’re the only one around here who can remember everyone’s birthday. If you go, the cakes go, and no one wants that to happen,” she teased.

“Yeah.” Mitzi laughed. “Maybe that’s my job security.”

“Well, that and your amazing work ethic.” Charlotte stood and came around to the front of the desk. “Don’t worry about HRA, okay?”

“You’re right.” Mitzi pushed up from her chair with a resigned huff. “Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”

“You bet, and if you ever need to talk, you know you can always come to me, right?”

“Yeah, because you’re such a good listener.” She surprised Charlotte by throwing her arms around her in a hug. “Thanks, Charlotte.”

“You’re very welcome.” She hugged her back.

“Welp, wish me luck with collecting more money.” Mitzi swung the door open. “People always seem to be on a call when they see me coming.”

“Good luck.” Charlotte shook her head and laughed as Mitzi strolled out of her office.

She returned to her desk, jiggled her mouse, and logged back into the system.

“Okay, where was I?” She rifled through some papers on her desk until she found the case number she needed and typed it in.

A document opened that she didn’t recognize. She looked at the number on the paper, then at the one on the screen, and realized she’d input an incorrect letter—it should’ve been an H and she’d hit the J key.

“Good grief.” Charlotte started to close the file, and her eyes landed on a familiar name. She scanned down the list and realized every single person shown was powerful, influential, and very well-known.

“What in the world?” Her eyes traveled across the screen to the other columns, then down.

“Oh my God.” Charlotte’s heart nearly beat out of her chest at what she saw.

Fast as possible, she closed out of the document, sat back in her chair, and stared at the blank screen for a moment while her mind processed what she’d just read. She ripped a piece of paper from her notepad and scribbled down the file number. She folded it, stuffed it in her wallet, and shoved it back in her bag.

Without meaning to, she’d stumbled upon something dark and evil, something she wasn’t meant to see—something no one was meant to see. If the people on that list found out she’d accessed the file, they would use their power and connections and do whatever was necessary to keep her from talking.

Even with that threat looming over her, she couldn’t just move on and pretend like she hadn’t seen the horrors listed on that document. Charlotte owed it to the innocent victims to do something, even if it put her life in danger.