Chicago, U.S.A., 1987

Astrid had known her captors. That was usually the way. These guys groomed their targets for years, hunted within the foster system, girls who would be turned out on their own, nobody's business but their own, at eighteen, so what would it matter if they went missing a couple of years early?

She'd been dragged into their apartment kicking and screaming, but soon shut up when she was put in front of their 'boss', such as he was.

"Hi there, Asti," Jake, tall, dark, imposing, looked down at her, smiling in a way that was supposed to look reassuring but just looked predatory. "Sit down."

Astrid didn't move.

"SIT DOWN!" he screamed, making her jump, and she did as she was told. "Good girl. Now, Astrid, explain this to me, because I'm fuckin' confused, alright? I thought we were friends? Ain't we always been nice to you? Well?" he pushed when Astrid didn't reply, "Ain't we?" She nodded. "See that's what I thought. But then I hear you run away, and you didn't even think to come to us?" He shook his head, tutting, "that ain't right. We take care of our own, Asti. We're a fuckin' family. We trust each other. But you... you've gone and broken that trust, you understand? UNDERSTAND?!" Astrid jumped, again, and nodded quickly.

Jake stood up, pacing around her.

"You're going to have to earn that trust back, you hear?" Astrid nodded again, gripping the sides of the kitchen chair she was sitting on. "Good girl. See, I knew you'd get it. I knew you'd understand. Now, because we care about you, see, we're going to take care of you. Give you a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in, food to eat. I hope you realise how lucky you are, Asti. Not many girls get this kind of treatment. You know how hard it is, out there? You're lucky not to be on the streets. Lucky, we found you. Go on now, get out of here." Astrid stood up and left, shoved along by another guy who's name she didn't know.

She was brought to a small room with three mattresses on the floor, two other girls already in there. Girls Astrid recognised. They looked worse for wear.

"There you go," said one of the guys Astrid didn't know, the one who'd grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to this room. "Go to bed." It was early, but Astrid wasn't going to complain. She sat down on the dirty mattress, knowing she was well and truly fucked.

"It's okay, hun," said the eldest looking girl, Megan, who'd been in the same home as Astrid for a time. Megan came and sat next to her and started pawing at her hair, over affectionate in a way that made Astrid squirm away. "It's okay, you'll see. They ain't so bad. They take care of us! They're so sweet, give us everything we want, treat us like we their queens! You'll see..." Astrid looked around the dank room, no longer listening, looking at the other girl who looked like a shell of a person and comprehended, for the first time, what a huge mistake she had made.

They started with the drugs quickly.

Heroin wasn't cheap, but it kept the girls quiet and compliant, completely out of it in their own little world. Easier to handle than if they'd been jacked up on crack. Astrid didn't want to take it. That didn't matter.

"Stay... still..." grimaced Tyler, whose job it was to hold her down. Astrid struggled, crying, trying to pull her forearm away from the needle, but it was hopeless. She was a teenage girl, and they were much stronger. Soon the needle pierced her skin, none too delicately, with all her thrashing around, and she choked out another sob. Then nothing mattered. Everything was okay. Everything felt... great. Astrid stopped fighting, Tyler stroking her hair, saying "good girl," over and over.

The next morning, she felt fine. Good, even. No hangover, no nothing, except for the slightly sore and swollen spot on her inner arm where she'd been injected. It wasn't so bad, really. Hadn't everyone said heroin was some serious shit? Astrid had never done drugs before, but even with no tolerance, she felt... fine.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Kane greeted her from the kitchen, as Astrid, bleary eyed, wandered in. It was past noon. "You enjoy yourself last night?" Astrid hesitated, then nodded, slowly, only half lying. Trying to think how to play this. "Good. Do you want to try some more?"

Astrid was smarter than she looked. She knew where this was going. Did she want more? Well... she was fine, after that first hit. And it had felt good. And damn, everything else was so shit. It was the first time she'd felt good in years... maybe ever. What did she have to lose? But her time at school on military bases, the last time her life had any real structure, kept coming back to her. She remembered her dad, and her mum, both drunk, sometimes worse. Discipline, hard work, denying yourself, those things had been drilled into her by her teachers. Don't be a fuck up; that lesson had been taught by her parents, who died riddled with bullets, friendly fire.

Naively, she shook her head.

"No?" Kane frowned. "Hey, Jake!" He called, and Astrid realised she'd made another mistake.

"WHAT?!" Jake called back, not moving from his spot on the couch in the other room.

"Astrid says she doesn't want any more." Astrid heard Jake stand up, walk into the kitchen to join them.

"Asti," he said, slowly, shaking his head, "we're trying to make sure you have a good time. This shit is expensive, you know? And we buy it. And we ask for nothing- nothing! - in return. You could at least be grateful. See, this kind of shit, makes me think we can't trust you. You a fuckin' snitch, Asti? Or you think you're too good for us?" Astrid shook her head, keeping her mouth shut, quickly learning her lesson. "Then you want some more?" She nodded. "Good girl."

They injected her again, and Astrid quickly forgot why she hadn't wanted any. It felt good, really good... not as good as the first time. She zoned out, two puncture holes in her arm now. Why did she ever fight this? This made everything okay...

When she came around again she knew she was in trouble. Nothing felt good without the heroin. Which wasn't a change, nothing had felt good for a long, long time. But the contrast made the bad feel unbearable. It was too easy to take their drugs and forget that she was being held captive in a dirty apartment in a dirty city. It made it easy to forget what was inevitably coming.

The next time they drugged her the same amount had less of an effect, but Astrid acted like a lightweight, pretending to react like she had the first time. She zoned out on the sofa, head back, staring at the sofa, enjoying a buzz of euphoria that made everything easier, wanting more but holding firm. They were happy to give her less than the other girls if she didn't need as much; it was cheaper that way.

Astrid had her suspicions about what was to come, but they were confirmed when she was put in front of the cleanest part of wall in the apartment, the one patch that had been painted white, to have her photo taken.

"Brush your hair, for fuck's sake!" Astrid caught the hair brush that was thrown at her and ran it through her hair. "Better."

She stared straight ahead as her picture was taken.

"Asti," it was Jake, now, appearing out of nowhere, always watching, as was his habit, "you speak paki, right?" Arabic, Astrid thought but said nothing.

"Yes," she answered. She'd been taught Arabic when she'd lived in the middle east.

"Told you, Israeli is best," He said, no longer speaking to her, "easier to forge, no one keeping track, no visa necessary, and she speaks the language so she'll pass." His lackeys nodded, like they knew any better, none of them knowing that pretty much everyone in Israel spoke Hebrew.

And so, they made up documents for her, in the name of Aurora Levy, eighteen years old, Israeli. Passport, birth certificate, the works. It looked legit, too. Someone else was financing this operation.

Their departure loomed. Astrid didn't know where they were going. They kept drugging her, but she had built up a tolerance while pretending she didn't need much. They'd upped her dose a bit, but not much. So, Astrid wanted to shoot up, pretty much all the time, especially when everything around her turned to utter shit in her darker moments, but when she was high she wasn't totally out of it.

They dragged her into the living room a few days before they were supposed to fly out. All of them were drunk, or high, or both.

"We'll fucking ask her, won't we!"

"Yeah, yeah... hey, Astrid!" She was shoved into the centre of them all, her heart pounding. "Tell us something. Are you a virgin?"

Astrid's mind started working a mile a minute. What would work better in her favour; a lie, or the truth. Then she caught Jake's eye and knew he knew. He knew everything, she thought. If she lied, her punishment would be worse. So, she shook her head, no, thinking of the dirty cop who'd held her freedom for ransom and accepted only one kind of payment.

All the boys surrounding her sounded off, either laughing, booing or both. Rounds of I told you so, and fuck filled the room.

"Virgins are worth more," one guy said, angry.

"Who cares?" said another, "like those slanty eyed fuckers can tell?"

"Well if she's not a virgin," said Jake, silencing the others, "there's no reason not to sample the goods, is there?"

The other boys all quickly agreed.

They took turns.