Page 122 of Girl in the Water

People looked up but then went back to quickly finish the texts they’d been typing.

“Until very recently, I worked for Hooper, Hinze & Quarles, one of the sponsors of this conference. I’m a law school student.”

People nodded absently. She spoke in unaccented English, she was dressed in a sharp black dress, she was a professional—she was just like them. They’d seen presenters like her before. They’d been to conferences like this before. They’d heard hundreds of interchangeable speeches.

“I was trafficked at age fifteen. I am a former child prostitute.” She announced her deepest, darkest secret, on stage, to a thousand strangers.

The phones went down, and the heads came up. The audience stared.

She told her story—the logger, her mother, Pedro, Rosa—and the phones stayed in laps.

She did click on the slide projector then. A group of young women huddled in the corner of a cornfield was the first image, the aftermath of a rescue op on the Mexican border.

“We are not just formerly trafficked persons.” She showed a handful of similar pictures of abused bodies with hopeful faces. “We are women with endless potential. We have endured. And now we are going to thrive. The past does not define us. We define our future.”

She received a standing ovation. Ian was the first on his feet, applauding madly. And as the conference organizer waiting at the back of the stage hugged her, the woman said, with a sheen in her blue eyes, “That speech just paid our budget for a year. What would it take to have you come and work for us permanently? You are the most amazing teacher I’ve ever met. There are things I’ve been trying to explain for a decade, and I think this is the first time an audience finally understands.”

“Thank you. Can I call you about that?” Daniela said, because Ian was hurrying down the back hallway.

He hugged her and lifted her off her feet. “I’m so proud of you.”

She was proud of herself.

When they were in the car on the way home, he asked, “How do you feel?”

“I feel as free as fish in water.” She grinned. “I know who I am, and I’m okay with my past. I don’t need to hide anymore. I’m fine the way I am.”

He reached over for her hand and held it all the way home, then all the way up to their apartment. Then they were inside—no more words for a while. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, laid her on the bed.

He kissed her.

Her whole body felt tingly everywhere they touched, something she’d never felt with any man. She loved his solid bulk, the strength of his arms that made her feel safe and as if she belonged in them.

She kissed him back, letting him explore her mouth, then exploring his. She could have gone for hours just kissing him. And she knew he would let her. He was letting her call the shots. She was in charge.

She liked that thought, but it also made her nervous.

“What is it?” he whispered against the curve of her jaw, his hands soothing her back.

She pulled up and braced herself on her hands so she could look at him. “I want this to work. I want to be able to enjoy this. With you. And I want it to be good for you so you’ll agree to do it again.”

He smiled. “You can pretty much take worrying about me wanting this again off the table. I haven’t even had it yet and I want it again already.” His eyes turned serious. “Why do you think you won’t enjoy it?”

“I didn’t. Before.” She looked at his shoulder. She couldn’t look at him.

Oh God.How stupid could she be? Never,never, bring upbefore, especially when they were in bed and they’d almost… Now he’d start to think about her with other men and change his mind and—

“Hey. This is not going to be like before. This time, you’re making love with a man who loves you to pieces. Totally crazy about you. I mean, major nut cakes.”

A smile took over her face. No ghosts of the past here, nobody and nothing but Ian and her, and they loved each other.

She kissed him again.

His hands slipped to the bottom of her dress. “I’d like to take this off.”

She sat up to straddle him and lifted her arms. The material caught on her elbow. “Merda.”

“Don’t swear.”