Chapter 3 - The Last Voice Message
I played Leah's final message in my head until the syllables hurt.
"Harper, don't call the police yet. Check the invoices. Two-four-seven-zero-one. If I don't make it home, please don't let them say I walked away."
Her voice had cut off amid the sound of truck brakes. Three months later the police still listed her as a missing adult. My family wanted a funeral. I wanted proof.
She'd been a contract compliance analyst working with state corrections agencies. Her job sounded boring: compare invoices with services, make sure taxpayers hadn't paid for beds no one used. She discovered charges for women sent to a place called Brightwater Recovery Annex, despite no verified arrivals. Then she disappeared outside Redhaven's gates.
I broke into a contractor's office for her audit notes. A security guard caught me and I shoved past him hard enough to cause an injury. I pleaded guilty because the evidence against me was real. It didn't make what happened to Leah imaginary.
That night, a woman named Josie shared the bunk above mine in Cell 18. She whispered without lifting her face from the pillow.
"You said something at lunch you shouldn't have."
"Did Morgane tell you?"
"The cameras have sound in the kitchen. We all know what happens to girls who make trouble."
"What happens?"
Josie pulled the sheet over her shoulder. "They're sent away for treatment. A few send postcards. Most don't."
Footsteps sounded outside. We went silent until the officer passed.
"Did you know Leah?" I whispered.
"No. But a woman in the laundry room did. That woman left on the Brightwater bus six weeks ago."
"Her name?"
"Gloria Marquez."
I looked toward the small strip of hall visible beyond our door. An appointment was marked for tomorrow morning.
May you like
"Josie, Gloria's still here."
Above me, the mattress creaked. "Then they brought her back," she breathed. "They never bring anybody back."
