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My stomach growls again, and Lilah giggles. “Your tummy making funny noises. It’s going grrrrrrrrrr.” She even brings her hands up and makes claws like she’s a grizzly bear or something.
“It sure is. Let’s go find something for Mommy to eat.” I grab onto her hand and pull her down the stairs. The guys are gone from the bar area. The only people at the bar now is an older woman standing behind the bar, restocking the liquor bottles from the looks of it. Another girl, much younger, is sitting on one of the stools. She looks to be younger than me, by at least a few years. She’s scrolling through her phone, her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. She doesn’t look like she’s trying to impress anyone in her leggings and oversized t-shirt. She seems down to earth, and I immediately know that I’ll like her.
They both turn towards me as I get closer. The younger one smiles at me, but the older one doesn’t. She looks a little guarded, not rude, but not open towards me in the slightest.
“Hi. Aziel told me to come and get some food.”
“Of course, he did.” The older one says. Then she notices Lilah and a smile breaks out on her face. “Hi, little one, how were those pancakes?”
“Yummy!” Lilah climbs up on a stool with little trouble.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s an old hag. Come sit down. My name is Violet. And you’re Ivy.”
I blink at her. “I am. How do you know?”
“Aziel had me run into town and get you guys some clothes this morning.”
So Aziel wasn’t the one stomping through the underwear department. Thankfully. “Thank you, for them. I didn’t have anything to wear.”
“So, I was told. I’m glad they fit. You look good in them.”
“Thanks.” I smile at her as I get up on the stool next to Lilah.
“Make her something, Haley. The girl looks like she’s starving.”
Haley lifts her eyebrows at Violet, and they have some sort of silent conversation. Then she scoffs, turns around, and starts putting something together.
“You don’t have to make anything, you know. I can slap something together if you tell me where everything is.”
“Don’t be silly. So, tell me your story. Where are you from?” Violet says, turning towards me and placing her elbow on the bar and settling her cheek against her fist. Her smile is bright, and her straight, white teeth are almost blinding. Her question also throws me off guard. Is she wondering where I’m from originally, or where I was just rescued from?
“Um, I’m from Ohio. Originally. Haven’t been there in a while.”
Violet gets a sad look on her face. “I’m sorry. Were you one of those trafficked girls that they’ve been saving? They’ve helped so many.”
They have? I had no idea. Could they be such bad people after all if they’re saving them? Saving us?
“I—uh, I’m…”
“Violet, quit grilling the girl.” A stack of pancakes and sausage get set in front of me a little harder than necessary. “Anyway, Aziel will be questioning her enough. She doesn’t need you prying with your skinny little ass of yours.”
“Shut up, Haley. I’m just tryin’ to get to know her.”
“Well, she’s not comfortable. Can’t you read people?” Haley puts her hands on her hips and levels Violet a look.
Violet looks at me and winces. “I’m sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I shake my head and smile, even though her questions were making me nauseous. I don’t like talking about home—Ohio—and I don’t like talking about Mexico, either. Both are touchy subjects to me, and talking about them with someone I barely know is like pulling my toenails off with a pliers.
Excruciating.
“I’m okay. So, what’s your story? How old are you?” I ask Violet, taking a bite of the pancake and moaning as it melts in my mouth. The maple syrup tastes homemade.
“I’m sixteen.”
I nod at her. “Do your parents live here?”
The mood grows silent. A little dark. It feels like the light fades from the room a little bit. “No. I’m here by myself. My parents are junkies probably begging on the streets of Los Angeles.”
