تسجيل الدخولBefore we finally left, Mr. Habib handed me a brown envelope. I quietly took it from him. I didn’t thank him. Not even once. I had worked for every single euro inside that envelope with my own body and my own pain. I tucked the envelope deep under my breast, hiding it right against my chest before we walked out to the car.When we got back to Madam Veronica’s house, she wasn't around yet. The moment we stepped inside, all of us rushed straight to the bathroom to clean ourselves up.I turned on the tap and started scrubbing. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed my body until my skin turned raw and red, almost like I was trying to tear my flesh off. I felt like if I scrubbed hard enough, I could cleanse myself from the dirt, from the sin, from the heavy image of those dogs climbing on top of us, and from their thick saliva dripping down onto our bare backs while they were on us. Those pictures kept flashing back into my memory, over and over again. All I wanted to do was cry. All I want
I sat down on the cold pavement right outside the gate, my mind spinning so fast I thought I would pass out. How? Where on earth was I supposed to find money for a brand-new bus? Madam Veronica wasn't going to help me. The last time I managed to send her four thousand euros, it had only happened through pure luck.Slowly, I turned my head and looked back at the tall iron gate I had just run out of.Should I go back? What would become of me if I stayed out here with zero money and a mother breathing down my neck? Opening my legs for animals instead of human beings—would I ever forgive myself for that? Would I ever be able to look in a mirror and see a human being again?Those thoughts were tearing my mind apart. Mummy, I was completely defeated. There was nothing else I could do. My body felt weak, and my legs felt completely numb.Slowly, I stood up and walked back to the gate. Nobody had chased after me. No guards had run out looking for me. I was walking right back into that compoun
Madam Veronica called only a few of us into her living room She was sitting on her leather chair, her two legs stretched out resting on the center table, one leg crossed right over the other leg. She was dragging on her cigarette with one hand while her thumb kept pressing her phone screen. She didn't even raise her head to look at us when we packed ourselves by the door. "Listen good," Madam Veronica said, her voice dry. She tapped the phone against her knee and finally looked at us. "The Arab people have already paid. Heavy money. No one should go there and disgrace me. Do everything they want, exactly how they want it, and satisfy them." She paused, her eyes moving round the room until they landed on me. "Especially you, Juliet," she said, pointing a long fake nail straight at my chest. "You are the one they specified by description. Make sure you don't go and spoil this business for me." Me and three other girls just took it as normal work. We thought it was just the usua
I kept telling myself that lie all the way back to the house.By the time I pushed the door open and stepped into that quiet room, my feet were paining me so bad. My body was carrying heavy bruises and that bitter, heavy taste from what those men in Madam Veronica’s private rooms make me do. I was sore, tired, broken down completely from hours of suffering from their cruelty, their alcohol tempers, and the rough, wicked ways they acted when business was bad or their anger just boiled over.Yet, even with all that pain, I forced myself to hold onto a tiny, stupid thread of hope. Even though you didn't say thank you, even though you cut the phone so fast my ears were ringing, I still found a way to excuse you.I told myself, *maybe she was just in a rush. Maybe network was bad.* Or maybe once you sat down away from all the noise, you would use that four thousand euros to buy something nice for yourself or for the house, and finally smile. I kept picturing it in my head—you walking out t
Mummy, up until that point, I had never held huge money. The little money I ever knew back then was whatever small coins or crumpled notes I managed to keep for myself before handing the rest of our earnings over to Madam Veronica.Back when we were still standing out on the cold streets every night, whatever little money I kept for myself was just enough to buy a bite to eat or hold my breath until the next shift. Every single major wad of cash always went straight to her. The clients paid her before we even walked into the room. To me, big money was just… it was for the adults, for the people who owned us. I never thought I would touch a single cent of it.But one night, it changed.A politician—a very powerful man—had specifically asked for me. When the night was over, he was getting dressed to leave. He didn’t just walk out. He grabbed my hand, pressed something into my palm, and folded my fingers over it. He looked at me, really looked at me, and said, *"Be a good girl."*I didn’
Unlike some of the other girls who struggled every single night just to get a single person to look their way, getting customers was rarely difficult for me. I was young, I was beautiful, and I had the kind of appearance that easily caught people's eyes right away. Whenever we were sent out to stand at our usual spots, men would notice me almost immediately.Madam Veronica noticed this very quickly, too. It didn’t take long before she started treating me differently from the rest of the girls. Instead of always leaving me out on the regular streets where the crowd was noisy and unpredictable, she began sending me to private rooms and hidden locations. At first, you might think a private room sounds better or safer, but it wasn’t. In fact, those places were often much worse. The men who came there weren't ordinary people walking down the street; they were wealthy, powerful, and completely used to getting whatever they wanted, however they wanted it, without anyone saying no to them.So







