“Do you ever plan to leave this behind?”
“No. I only plan to help in another way. When one of us returns home, we return to a world that isn’t prepared to receive us carrying what was done to us. Parents, husbands, children all expect the same daughters, wives, and mothers back without realizing we’ll never be the same again. Some carry traumas so deep they can’t even stand being near men anymore. Others can’t work or walk outside alone. When I’m no longer capable of rescuing them, I want to at least be there to hold them once it’s over.”
“I could do that.”
“Yes. Out of all of us, you’re the one best positioned to do it without compromising yourself.”
“They’re leaving,” I interrupt.
They lock the barn and leave it in total darkness, perfectly camouflaged among the vineyards. They sile
