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When I saw my father’s light-brown face blanche, drained of any sign of life and spirit, I knew he was receiving some horrific news on the other end of that call. At that moment, my gut told me he was about to tell me something had happened to Tracyee. The news still haunts me to this day.
“Baby girl, sit down, I have to tell you something,” he said once he hung up the phone. His voice was low and devoid of the energy he’d had before taking the call.
I braced myself for the worst. The look on his face alone was terrifying enough to make me feel the Earth was falling out of orbit.
“What is it, Dad? Why are you looking at me like that? Who were you just talking to?” I asked him a barrage of questions, only because his lips weren’t moving fast enough.
He grabbed my hands and held them in his and stared at me.
“Dad, talk to me? What’s going on?” I urged.
“It’s your friend, Tracyee.”
My heart sank, my worst fear being realized.
“What about her?” I asked slowly.
“They found her body,” he said, his voice cracking.
“Body? What do you mean…body?” I asked though I knew full well what he was saying to me. My mind just wasn’t ready to process that my friend, whom I’d prayed to God above for her safe return, would never make it back to North Carolina alive.
“She’s gone, baby girl. Dead...” my father’s voice trailed off. “She was killed in New York sometime earlier this year, and her body was found today.”
“No! No! Daddy, no! Please don’t say that. Don’t say that she’s dead. It’s just not right… please…no!” I lost it after hearing the very thing I had been praying I would never hear. My friend was never coming back. I just kept repeating, “No!” over and over again.
In my heart, I knew my friend was gone the moment her parents came over to talk to my parents and me, asking about her whereabouts. I just felt an emptiness I couldn’t explain. Tracyee didn’t tell me she was leaving. Maybe because she thought I would rat her out. Still, I figured she would have at least called me once she got settled, even if it was a few weeks later. But it had been months, and the months were turning into a year when we got the news of her murder.
“Her father just gave me the news. She got lured to New York with the hopes of becoming a model. She wanted to make it big and then let everybody know what she’d done. But when she got off the plane, she was met by some guys who were sex traffickers.” My father, once again, stared at me with an intense look in his eyes, his mouth hanging open with words left unsaid. Then, I recognized what I saw in his eyes. Fear. He feared he would lose me the same way. He went on to tell me that Tracyee was strong and she fought for her life, but it was a battle she didn’t win.
From that moment forward, I decided to fight too. That was the night I chose what I would major in when I went to college. I always wanted to go into criminal justice, but whether I would be a lawyer or an officer was up in question. Tracyee’s death let me know I wanted to be on the line, stopping sex traffickers in their tracks.
No matter how innocent these guys look, like Mr. Sexy from earlier, my purpose in life i
s to hold them accountable for what happens to young, unsuspecting girls who are just looking to follow their dreams, or worse, looking for love. My primary purpose in life is to stop men like him. That’s why I will meet him tomorrow. No matter how green he looks, he’s out here taking advantage of somebody’s daughter, somebody’s friend, and I will bring him to justice.
I walk around the corner and get inside my red sports car. It’s a gift from my father when I graduated from college. My father didn’t want me to come to New York, so I think the car was meant to be a bribe. But he has gotten used to me being so far away from home, and he’s here practically every month to check on me.
Speaking of the overbearing men in my life, my cell rings just as I crank up to leave. It’s my partner.
“Hello Sloane,” I answer dryly. Somehow, I already know he’s calling to grill me about not calling him earlier today.
“Hello to you. Don’t sound so happy to hear from me, or I might begin to think you consider me as a friend,” he says sarcastically.
“What do you want, Sloane? I’m taking the night off.”
“You see, that’s what I thought until I rode over here and saw your car in the parking lot at the park. So, feed me another line about why you’re out here working without your partner again,” Sloane hisses.
“I came to talk to the girls from last night, to see what I could find out about their pimp, but they weren’t here. Since I didn’t plan to deal with any Johns, I didn’t think I needed any backup,” I reason.
“But you did deal with a guy tonight,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
“The guy that was in your face before the old lady said something to break you two up. I thought I was going to have to rescue you from him. What was up with that?” he asks protectively.
“Damn, what? Have you been following me all night? Are you watching me right now?” I ask, looking around the parking lot and over my shoulder in my car.
“You make me sound like a low-life stalker, but you know that’s not the case. I’m not watching you. I’m looking out for you, Yan. There’s a difference. I know you’re headstrong and will try to work without me, but it’s too dangerous out here for that,” he argues. “When are you going to get that through your head? Hopefully, before it’s too late!”
