The Woman at the Docks (Grassi Framily)

Or a recruiter for traffickers?

No.

No, absolutely not.

That wasn't even remotely possible.

"Yes. Yes, I am sure. Right?" she asked, grabbing my phone back out of my dead hands, shoving it toward the other women who, one after the other, confirmed Victoria's words.

"I'm gonna be sick," I declared, flying out of the container, finding a break between the stacks, dropping down on my knees near the water's edge, and heaving.

Luca's hand was at my lower back a few moments later, reaching around me to hand me a pocket square.

I wiped frantically at my face, blowing my nose, balling up the handkerchief, but feeling completely immobilized by the shock.

"Romy," he tried, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"They have to be wrong," I insisted, despair a noose tightening around my throat, cutting off my air, making my voice sound breathless.

"Sweetheart, we have to believe them. They have no reason to lie."

They didn't.

And I was an awful person for even trying to call them liars in my own head, let alone saying it out loud.

"I don't... I can't..." I told him, feeling the tears welling up and overflowing.

"Okay. It's going to be alright," he assured me, though we both knew he couldn't promise me that as he dropped down on the ground, gathered me onto his lap, held me against his chest as I soaked through his shirt.

I'd been vaguely aware of the sound of police sirens, of ambulances, but had been too wrapped up in my misery to put two and two together until I heard a voice at our sides.

"Luca, we need to talk to the both of you," the man's voice declared.

"I will talk to you. I'm not sure if she is in any shape to," Luca said, untangling from me, pulling both of us to our feet.

"Officer Greys can sit with her until she is feeling more like talking," the detective declared, waving a woman over, taking off with Luca.

I don't precisely remember the course of events, but at some point, I was pulled over toward the detectives by Luca who acted as a buffer, as well as a physical crutch because I was pretty sure gravity was suddenly demanding I get closer to the ground.

Questions were thrown at me. And I was pretty sure I mumbled some responses, but couldn't know if they were even halfway sensible.

I didn't care.

I just wanted to get out of here, away from all of this. Naively, I thought some physical distance might help me disconnect from it all.

"Can I take her home?" Luca asked, hand around my hip giving me a squeeze. "I think she's still in shock. And I filled in all the holes in her story. You have everything."

"And you'll send us the picture of the suspect," the detective, a man by the name of Lloyd said.

The suspect.

The suspect.

My baby sister was the suspect.

The same baby sister I h

ad taught the patience song to when she proved to have very little self-control when it came to waiting her turn. The same baby sister I had taught how to tie her shoes, to cook, to drive. The same baby sister I had a giant hand in raising.