I can practically feel the memory of Elise pressed against myside, her small body shaking. It’s like I’m thirteen again.
“Mom’s friend,” I gritted out, trying my best to sound normal.“He’ll leave soon.”
“And then we’ll get out of here?” she asked.
I looked around the small, dark room. It smelled like footsweat and dust. The only light came through the crack at thebottom of the door. Sometimes, Mom slid a towel in front of itto muffle our voices so her friends wouldn’t hear us scream.But she left it uncovered today. She was in a hurry.
“Yeah, we’ll get out,” I tell her. “We always do. We just haveto wait.”
Wait and stay quiet. Not usually a four-year-old’s strengths,but Elise tried her best. She was too young to face thepunishment for being too
