We at Maynard-King offer trauma-informed care for victims of trafficking. We understand the effects of trauma on the mind and body. We know that survivors have been torn away from their families and held against their will, often restrained.
In some cases, they are forced to work with no pay. Some are required to perform sex acts with a promise of freedom after they comply with their captors’ demands. The sad truth is that many are never released; they may disappear, never to see their families again.
Even for those who do regain their freedom, life can be its own prison. Cruel treatment at the hands of some of their captors takes a psychological toll thatmay be difficult—even impossible—to recover from. Self-hatred is a persistent emotion, accompanied by feelings of worthlessness. Victims often blame themselves for what they have been through. They may turn to addiction or other self-destructive behaviors. Nightmares and night terrors are common.
An inability to form healthy and satisfying relationships is but one effect of being held in involuntary servitude, but it is perhaps the most tragic.
Maynard-King is a safe space to receive care. Survivors can connect with each other, heal by discussing shared experiences, all in the safe embrace of our compassionate community. Self-hatred will melt away, replaced by self-respect. You will learn lessons that will serve you well. When you complete the initial treatment recommended by your doctor, you will be ready for the finishing school of life.
We prepare you for life.
We care.
We will love you until you can love yourself.
You are not alone.
“Okay,” Tom said. “So now we know thatPsycheis used for trafficking humans.”
“The handcuffs, yeah,” Conor said. He reread the last paragraph. Something was pricking at his memory, but he couldn’t bring it to the surface.
Tom had been saying that documented vessels often made international trips, and Conor knew that the common perception was that women were trafficked into the United States, across borders from other countries. But the fact was, much trafficking was local—sometimes across state lines, but often victims were transported within a much smaller distance.
“Yeah. Can it be a coincidence, that what we’ve been thinking happened onPsycheis what they treat here?” Tom asked.
“The company that owns the hospital also owns the boat and also owns the house where Belinda was killed,” Conor said. “Leprince de Beaumont Associates.”
“And what? They traffic women, then treat them at the hospital?”
“Or they ‘treat’ trafficked women at the hospital,” Conor said. “Then traffic them again—on the boat and the island. They know the victims have already been broken down—that makes it easy for them. They harvest them—women at their most vulnerable.” He felt rage even saying it.
Tom nodded. Joe was busy getting warrants. Conor knew that would take time, especially when he told Joe what they had just discovered. He watched his brother scroll through the website, looking at the photos of the Maynard-King hospital grounds, ending on the contact page with a map of the property.
“It’s waterfront,” Tom said. “Directly on Narragansett Bay.” He typed the location into a website that had nautical charts and found the one that corresponded to the Maynard-King location. It showed water depths, reefs and other dangers, aids to navigation, and the shoreline. He zoomed in to the hospital property and pointed. “They have a dock.”
“That makes transporting victims easier,” Conor said. “And it makes our investigation easier too.”
“Yeah,” Tom said, nodding. “Coast Guard business. You said you have a name? A contact at Leprince?”
“Yes. But let’s not call her. Face-to-face would be better. Do you feel like a road trip?” Conor asked.
Tom didn’t even have to answer. They were walking outside toward Tom’s truck when Kate caught up to them.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“The place where you found the note,” Conor said. “Maynard-King.”
“Do you know how to get there?” Kate asked.
“We’ll use GPS.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I can show you.”
Conor held her gaze for a few seconds, saw her start to smile. “It’s always good to have a guide,” he said.
“Then let’s go,” she said, and they continued on to Tom’s truck. Conor checked to see if Joe had texted back, but he hadn’t. They all climbed into the truck and headed out of Watch Hill, driving east toward Narragansett.
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