I felt a drop of liquid on my palm as the beer that I had ordered was placed before me. I looked up and saw her tear-laden eyes. She must be in her late teens, dressed in a skimpy dress.
She turned and disappeared almost immediately. I followed her, right to darkest part of the building.
”What’s the matter?” I held up her bent face coaxingly. She looked tired.
After narrating, with unease, how she was forced into prostitution under the guise of help, she pleaded, ”Can you get me out of this place? Can you take me home?”