Ronnie sat back in shock. She had heard him. Believed him. She just didn’t believe she was worth all that.
“Then what do we do?” Mo asked.
She ignored the question. It was obvious that they needed to keep going.
“Do we finish it?”
She couldn’t believe Mo was asking that.
“We might have to,” Stan said. “I owe it to Frank.”
She looked at Gen. She sat with her mouth open in confusion. She didn’t understand the conversation either. It made Ronnie proud to be her friend.
Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she leaned over with her arms wide. Gen received her in an embrace that reassured her in how strong it was. How gentle she could be under all that muscle.
“I don’t want to cut our losses,” Stan said. “I can’t afford it.”
Mo sighed. “What are our resources though? What can we afford to do?”
Ronnie pulled away and smiled at Gen in gratitude. Touched her face where her own tears were glistening streaks.
“We still have to get to the bank,” Stan said. “I have enough cash to keep us all in comfort for quite awhile.”
Ronnie shook her head as she sat back. What were the losses they were cutting? What had they lost, really?
Nothing compared to what the abused children of the world lost every day. Not even the same as a parent losing their child. Like Frank losing his daughter.
Stan pretended to feel his pain, and he probably believed he did, but he couldn’t possibly know.
And there was no way he could be empathetic to a little girl powerless against a cruel abuser. When it came right down to it, she had lost a bit of convenience. Stability. Income. Nothing that couldn’t be found again.
How could a child recover themselves after having their childhood – their humanity – stripped from them?
How could they be discussing the possibility of giving up on those girls currently being abused, and dishonoring the ones that had already been abused?
It was unacceptable.
The bottle of her emotions was building pressure inside her, the cork slipping from the neck.
She wasn’t worth it. It didn’t matter what happened to her or anyone else in this van if it meant a single little victim could be saved.
The bottle was too full.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and screamed for Stan to stop. Over and over as Gen jumped to calm her down, but Ronnie was out of her seat. Up against the sliding door. Her voice bouncing off the glass to pierce her ear. Jerking on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.
Their combined voices were chaos. The van swerved as Stan reached for her. She jerked away and tore at the handle.
The van slowed. Rolled to the side, and when she heard the door locks disengage, she gasped in relief. The door slid open, and she jumped out onto the dark shoulder. Her feet hit gravel, and she slid to her hands and knees, tearing skin from her palms and fingers.
Rocks digging into her shins.
She heard feet hit behind her. Doors opening and slamming.
She had to get away from them. Their decision to run away.
She made it to her feet before any of them could touch her. Ran off the side of the road to splash into the ditch. Dug up through the weeds. Clawing and kicking toward the forest that lined the highway.
She cracked her mask into a fence post a few feet into the trees. Felt the sting of wire biting into the skin of her shoulder.
She couldn’t get her breath. Couldn’t see through all the dark around her.
Hands grabbing her around the waist, and she no longer had the strength to resist. Turned to let Stan hold her. Then Gen was there. Finally, Mo hung over them like a shadow.
And they held her while she cried until she had nothing left. The bottle was finally empty.
When she finally pushed away, the light from the side door showed the mud all over her. It looked like splatters of blood. As if she had waded through a battlefield.
“You have to promise me,” she said. Her voice sounded like crumbling charcoal. “You have to swear.”
Stan put his hand on her cheek. Rubbed at the tears on the outside of her mask. “What do we have to swear?”
“You have to do one thing.”
“What is it?”
“One tiny little thing in the grand scheme of things, but the most important thing in all our lives.”
Gen squatted down and put her hand on Ronnie’s scraped knee. “Tell us.”
“Go through with it,” Ronnie said. “Save what children you can. No matter what happens to me.” She looked at Stan. “Or what happens to Gen.” She looked at Mo. Then she looked at her hands in her lap. “Or what happens to any of us.”
“We may not be able to save any of them,” Stan said.
“But are we capable of trying?”
He looked away. “I don’t know what it will cost.”
She took his head in her hands. Brought it close enough for his features to blur. “But that’s the point, babe. I might be worth it to you. But not to me. You have to promise, or I’m going to sit here in this ditch.”
Stan pushed to stand up. “Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go.”
She slapped his hand away. “I will sit here, Stan. Either you go on, or they kill me. Either way, you have to do it without me.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
Stan stood with his head down. Shoulders heaving with his breath. Finally, he looked up and shook his head. “Okay.”
He held his hand out to her, but she hesitated to take it. “Okay what?”
“I promise.”
“You promise what?”
He let his hand drop. “If they take the last thing that means anything to me on this earth, I’ll go on. I’ll do what I can to see as many children saved from the office as I can. God help me, but I swear.”
She lifted her hand, but he turned away. Brushed past Mo as he splashed back through the ditch. When she let her hand drop back down, Gen caught it before it hit her lap. Lifted her to her feet.
“I promise,” Gen said.
“Thank you.”
Mo reached up to guide them down over the ditch. “I swear.”
She nodded as she reached up to grab his hand. “Thank you, Moses.”
Stan slid into the driver’s seat. Slammed the door behind him. Gen and Ronnie climbed into the back. Mo waited until they were buckled in before sliding the door closed.
As soon as Mo’s door shut, Stan pulled back onto the highway. Ronnie watched the back of his head for miles. She felt light, like a dry tissue, about to rip apart at any moment.
Her relief was like when they had taken the bandages off for the first time. Sticking to raw skin as she cried out in pain, but the feel of the air for the first time in weeks. Bliss that had made her weep.
Losing Stan this way was better than losing him because he left those girls to die. She could go through anything now, knowing she was sure he would keep going.