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It’s not until one is pulled open that I remember we’re not alone.
A woman with bright red hair, wearing a set of equally red lingerie, steps out and freezes at the sight of us.
“What the fuck, Lee?” she hisses, eyeing me cautiously.
The woman in my arms—Lee—waves her off, encouraging me to continue to the door next to the one the redhead walked out of.
I push it open and am instantly assaulted by the potent scent of perfume and hairspray.
But while that might be overwhelming, it’s the sight of the girls inside that rips my heart to shreds.
There must be fifteen, maybe twenty girls in here, all of them a different variety of broken, despite how made up and ready for work they might be.
Their eyes, their bodies tell a story the men in this place choose to ignore—either that or embrace as they do whatever they can to break them further.
There’s three girls huddled together, snorting coke off the vanity. There’s another couple passing a joint back and forth by the window. Others are doing their hair and makeup, pulling on stupidly tiny outfits, and there are two just sitting and staring at the wall.
The sight is horrifying. The atmosphere in the room is awful and there isn’t a single smile or a hint of happiness.
But worse than all that. I don’t recognize any of them.
I’m slammed by disappointment again as I lower Lee to the bench in the middle of the room.
The few girls who notice my presence, watch me with curious eyes. A couple of them leave the room as fast as they can.
“Shit. Some of the girls are running.”
“If they go and tell someone—” Reid starts.
“You need to get out of there,” Mav warns.
“I can’t. She said us, Mav. If she’s here?—”
Lee looks up and whispers something too quiet to make out.
Her body is shutting down. She can barely hold her head up.
“What was that?”
“Sh-showers,” she breathes.
“Showers,” I echo, spinning around in a rush.
A few more girls notice me, but I pay them little mind as I run toward a doorway at the other end of the room.
The sound of running water hits my ears a second before I find a series of shower stalls.
They don’t have doors or curtains. All of them are open for everyone to see.
I run down the row with my heart in my throat.
There are girls showering, but no one I recognize.
And then I get to the very end one and I’m pretty sure the entire world falls from beneath me.
“Kristie,” I cry, plummeting to my knees.
“Oh my God,” someone gasps in my ear.
