Portia
"Who are you?" a creaky voice asks in the darkness.
I blink, look around to locate the woman speaking. I find her on the opposite end of the mattress nearest me. There are three others sleeping between us.
"Why can't they touch you?" she asks, and I hear resentment in her words.
"I..."
How do I answer? And that too, honestly?
"He called you a cartel w***e. I heard him. Are you with them? The Cartel?"
"No. Of course not."
"Then why didn't he touch you? You don't have the mark."
"What mark?"
She lifts the wrist of one of the sleeping girls. A younger one. She shows me the mark made by what looks to be a black sharpie.
Just an X.
"What does it mean?"
She drops the girl's wrist and looks away, her eyes clouded with an emotion I can't place. More like pain, though. "Virgin.
