Having been born in the constant temperature of seventy degrees with no variation, then thrust into the balmy heat of California, she wasn’t sure what to make of Missouri in October. There was a huge difference from where she’d come from and from where she was, not just in the weather, but in her surroundings. Lake of the Ozarks was absolutely one of the most stunning places she had ever seen. When she’d decided to leave her mom and grandmother and the other women who were rescued, she had taken a dart and tossed it into the map on the wall. They’d gone from one commune to another. Only in the underground world they weren’t looked at with pity, or as insects under a microscope. She couldn’t stand the pitying looks from the people she encountered, the knowing looks from many of the men, as if they knew what they had been trained to do. They didn’t know anything. She had a birth certificate and a social security card, and luckily for her, her grandmother had been smart enough to sneak money away from before she’d come down.
