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wrong. She did not want to get used toit, or somehow be associated with it. She did not want to settle down in it. Shedid not want to become comfortable here.

Instead,she sat on the edge of the bed and waited. She had to be ready for the timewhen she would be rescued. Soon, this would all be over and she would beheading back home. Her mom would forgive her for running out that night. Theywould go out to dinner and pretend it never happened. They would laugh aboutthings that happened when she was a little girl instead.

She hadto remain strong—she would not cry again, she would not beg—she would just waita day, or maybe two. Her mom would find a way to pull her out of here. Or maybeher grandfather on her dad’s side would do it. He was a powerful man. She justhad to wait, be patient, be strong, and stay ready to escape.

For amoment, the hall outside filled with men’s voices. Deep voices, laughingvoices, menacing voices—all just on the other side of that locked door. Thegunmen, the guards from Honduras. Their sudden presence changed everything. Allher thoughts transformed in an instant. She was not going to escape. She wasnot going to be rescued. A wave of helpless fear surged over her. Her heartpounded in her chest.

Shecouldn’t stay living down here. Eventually these gunmen would decide thatDarwin didn’t want her, that she hadn’t made the cut, that she wasn’t worthy tolive in another part of the house. She was down here, left out, forgotten.

Then theycould have her.

Shecrept to the door and listened—she could not understand a single word theysaid. The voices brought back memories of the attack on the beach, then thedarkness, waking up on the plane… waking up here in this room.

She hadto get out of this room. She had to get out, into the rest of the house, theproperty, the sun. She’d had a small taste of it this morning, at breakfast onthe patio with Mistress Elaine.

Theplace was amazing. They were at the top of a mountain, overlooking a wide blueocean. Lush plants were all around them, with gigantic green leaves and flowersin red and blue and yellow. There were hummingbirds here the size of her hand. Theydrank nectar from feeders left out for them, and their wings made a loudwhirring sound.

This wasan island near Central America, close to Honduras. Darwin owned the island, andfor some reason the country of Honduras gave him soldiers for his protection. MaybeDarwin and Honduras were allies. Maybe Darwin owned the soldiers now.

Darwinalso owned her, apparently.

Thatcouldn’t be right. How could he own her? There were other girls here—she sawthree of them hanging around sun tanning by the swimming pool—and Darwin ownedthem. That seemed possible, but not for her, not for Charlotte.

Charlotte,my name is Charlotte.

It wasodd. The 21 thing was starting to creep in. She was beginning to have strangethoughts. Thoughts like: 21 needs to find a way out of here.

Theywere doing this to her. They were making her think this way.

Darwin hadtold her he bought her from her parents, but that was definitely wrong. Herfather was dead, and had been since she was young. She remembered him, soskinny, so pale, his eyes so sad when he saw her. Her father was like a baddream to her now. She loved him, and she remembered a different version of himwhen she was very young, but he was fading. The healthy, happy dad, and thesick, dying dad, both were almost gone now. But either way, he couldn’t havesold her to Darwin. He wasn’t even alive.

And her motherwould never sell her. Not in a million years. They’d had their problems, morerecently because her mother never wanted her to go out, but nothing to thepoint where her mother would sell her.

Jeff.

Jeffwould sell her. Her mom’s boyfriend. He didn’t like her. Or maybe he just didn’tcare about her. He didn’t seem to pay attention at all. She had overheard himsometimes, though. He wanted to travel, to go away, to take vacations. But theywere stuck because Charlotte was in school. Plus all the money for college wasgoing to be a drain. Jeff didn’t like that. Her mother said her grandfatherwould probably pay for her college, but Jeff didn’t believe it.

Jeffwould be happy to get rid of her. And if he got money for it? All the better. Buthow could he convince her mother to do it?

Howcould he?

21. Yournumber is 21.  

It wascrazy. She wasn’t a number. She wasn’t someone’s slave. 21 was no one’s slave.

Darwinhad seemed almost nice. He told Charlotte she was perfect, an angel come tolife. He might have been handsome once. He was old, but not old the way a lotof men got. He seemed like a young man with an old man’s head attached at thetop of the neck. He had white hair and blue eyes.

She knewwhat he wanted. She saw the way he looked at her. It was scary. She wasn’tready for anything like that.

He knewthat, too. And he seemed okay with it.

But thenhe put her back down here in this dungeon. They were beating her down, that’swhat they were doing. She saw it. She wasn’t stupid. She could do what Darwinwanted, be his happy slave, jump through hoops like a trained poodle, or shecould live down here in the dark, surrounded by gunmen from Honduras. Gunmenshe had to ask to let her out so she could go to the bathroom.

A lumpwelled up in her throat. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry again.

Don’tcry. Don’t cry. It’s okay.

It wasn’tgoing to work. It was NOT okay.

Suddenly,her heart was racing. She couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air. Her hands andface went numb. She seemed frozen in place. This couldn’t be real! It couldn’tbe real! It wasn’t happening. She would not believe in it.

She wasstill wearing the plush white robe that Elaine had given her to wear. Shewrapped the robe around her body, hugged her knees, and sat there trying to think.What should she do? She did not know.

She sobbed silently. In her mind, she howledin agony,

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