Page 27 of Auctioned Innocence
The bathroom provides another opportunity to think without watchful eyes.
I scan everything, looking for weaknesses in the construction, for anything I might use.
The pipes under the sink are wrapped in some kind of soft, childproof covering.
The shower head is fixed, impossible to remove.
The toilet has no removable parts.
I step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of whatever drug they used.
As my head clears, I start methodically breaking down the problem.
First: I need to understand the layout of this place. The number of guards. The security systems. The daily routines.
Second: I need allies. Maisie seems willing to help in small ways. Kira might be strategic enough to see the value in cooperation.
Third: I need access. To files, to door codes, to anything that might give me leverage or a way out.
Fourth: I need to understand who’s behind this. Maisie mentioned the operation has been running for thirty years, but the Calabreses only started their auction house more recently.
Is Dominic working with an established network or has he taken over an existing operation?
I wash my hair with the expensive shampoo provided, forcing my hands not to shake.
Fear won’t help me now.
Neither will anger, though I feel it building inside me like a storm.
I need to be cold. Calculating.
The kind of person who can look at human trafficking as a system to be dismantled rather than an atrocity to rage against.
I need to be like Dante.
The thought comes unbidden.
His ability to compartmentalize, to see the chessboard while standing on it—that’s what I need now.
When I step out of the shower, I find clothes laid out on my bed—clearly delivered while I was in the bathroom.
A delicate sundress in pale blue silk.
Matching underwear with real lace.
Designer sandals.
All of it my size. It makes my skin crawl.
But I put it on.
Piece by piece, I arm myself with the costume they’ve chosen.
The dress fits perfectly, designed to showcase my figure without being overtly sexual.
Tasteful. Expensive.
The kind of merchandise that commands top dollar.
