Serafina

“Eres un idiota! You gave her too much. He likes his girls awake, you pinche pendejo.”

“Relax. She’ll come around in a minute. They always do. Once she’s broken in, we won’t have to give her as much.”

The voices floated around me, rising in volume as the argument progressed —sometimes speaking English and sometimes Spanish. Sometimes a combination of both. I didn’t recognize any of them anymore. Not since they carried me out of that first house and threw me into the back of a truck with a group of other girls ranging in age from fifteen to forty. At least from what I could tell, because I’d...