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46
ANTONIO
Daniela glares at me with a disdain that I hoped to never see from her. It’s worse than anything she’s ever thrown my way, and it cuts me to the quick.
“Of course not,” Sonia spits out.
But Daniela doesn’t seem convinced, and the disgust and horror on her face hasn’t faded anywhere near enough for me. It’s in this weak moment that I decide she needs to know everything. It’s a mistake to read her in. I’m sure of it,but I don’t care.So when the voice inside my head shrieks, What the fuck is wrong with you?,I tell it to go to hell, and I jump headfirst into disaster.
“In a way, we are,” I clarify. “Trafficking women from dangerous people and dangerous places to where they can be safe.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t understand.”
I glance at Sonia. “Why don’t you explain?”
“This is the end, isn’t it?” she asks me, tears in her eyes.
“If it is, it’s your doing.” I have no real sympathy for her. If she were almost anyone else, I’d have hunted her down this morning and killed her with my bare hands.
She buries her face in her hands for a long moment before she speaks. “We run a small shipping business together. Through the business, we send women who are victims of domestic violence or other atrocities to safe harbors, away from their abusers, and provide them with resources to create a new life elsewhere.”
Sonia has Daniela’s rapt attention, but more importantly, the contempt is gone from her face.
“We occasionally intercept a boat where women are being trafficked through the city, but that’s not our main focus.”
Daniela turns to me. “How long have you been doing this?”
“More than a decade.” My tone is matter-of-fact, but in truth, the work makes me proud. We’ve saved more lives than I’ve taken—many more.
“Eleven years,” Sonia says under her breath.
“Tell her how we met.”
“Antonio. Please.”
“Tell. Her.”
“My friend, Petra, disappeared while we were studying at the university. Just disappeared.” The sorrow on Sonia’s face is palpable, even after all these years.
But after what she put Daniela through today, she has it coming.
“She was my best friend. She’d been receiving hateful messages and threats from her family when they learned she was a lesbian. I went to Lydia, Antonio’s mother, who had cobbled together an extensive network to help locate missing women. That’s when I met Antonio.”
“For the most part, my mother’s activities were local,” I add. “Until she met Sonia.” Although, to be fair, my mother was on a hiatus, but before that, she had been involved in the underground network for years, and was jonesing to jump back in. “I got involved because I didn’t want her involved with anything that had anything remotely to do with trafficking.”
“Have you ever found Petra?” Daniela asks, softly.
“No.”
I have never outed Sonia to anyone, including my mother, who was always playing matchmaker. But the idea of Sonia and I getting together ends today—at least for Daniela.
“Petra and Sonia were more than friends—they were lovers. We live in a shitty world filled with shitty people. Sonia works for the president, and it’s easier for her if people believe she’s straight.”
It’s quiet for a few moments while the two women digest it all. Daniela, who I essentially abducted after entering into a betrothal contract with her father, is wondering how I can be involved in helping women escape misery. And Sonia, I’m sure, is trying to come to terms with what she sees as my betrayal. She proved herself to be a huge liability today. It can’t happen again. She needs to know that I’ll do anything to protect Daniela.
“What I still don’t understand,” Daniela says, swiveling to face Sonia, “is why you sent me the photographs. What were you trying to accomplish?”
Sonia looks horrified. “I swore to their authenticity, and I gave the photographer permission to put them up on the site. I hoped you’d hear about them, but I never sent photographs to you or to anyone.”
