Connie flipped over in bed, shutting her eyes against the brilliant sunbeam streaming through the crack in the curtains. And came face to face with Jason, his eyes closed, breathing deeply in sleep.

A lock of his brown hair fell over his forehead, glimmering in the sunlight. He wore the hint of a smile. She ached to touch him but dared not wake him. He might be in the middle of a peaceful dream and he needed all of those he could get.

The sun kissed his face, enhancing his beauty. She envied the sun. She was desperate to press her lips to his. Such devastatingly perfect lips….

The longing inside her was almost too much to bear. She considered flipping back over so she couldn't see him—but she couldn't stand the thought of blocking out his face. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, even though she couldn't touch him, though it was agony to refrain…. She considered moving around to gently wake him, but she didn't want to be so selfish as to drag him from stolen moments of peace.

But when he woke… would they—should they—keep themselves from each other? Her impregnable reasons seemed a little flimsy at the moment. She'd kept herself from him for too long as it was. She couldn't stand to hurt another baby…but it wasn't likely the same thing would happen again—

Jeremiah—

His name stabbed her heart.

But this time, the knife was a little dulled….

Thank you, God.

Guilt pricked her at being relieved the pain was fading…but would Jeremiah, if he'd grown up enough to know her, have wanted her to cling to pain, the only thing she had left of him? Or would he have wanted her to move on. Let Jason have a chance for some of the happiness he'd been deprived of. Perhaps even give her a chance to heal….

God, if it's your will, let me know. How much should I balance my need to heal with…my need to move on, and Jason's needs?

Should I even keep taking the birth control pills?

I should at least ask Jason. Maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe—

It struck her heart. What Nika had offered.

Maybe we should wait and see if it's God's will that we help her. I mean—we are here to help human trafficking victims after all…

Is it your will, Lord, that we…adopt?

It would give me space to wait to have a biological child if that's what God wants. But is it? You did already lead us to her door. Maybe that's why we're here. If we don't accomplish anything else…maybe that's why I'm here. Otherwise, I've been a bit useless….

In any case, she felt better about it in the fresh light of morning. Yesterday, Nika's request had come out of the blue and shocked her. But now…she could almost see herself with a new little baby in her arms. Brown eyes, as deep as Nika's…so full of promise….

She felt tears trickle down her cheeks into the pillow, flowing from the deep ache in her heart—the ache of longing for a child, and the deep pain of grief….

Jason took a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes focused on hers, glorious facets shot through with golden light. He smiled but then a furrow creased his brow.

"Connie, what's wrong?" He slid his hand tentatively into her hair, brushing it back from her face. His thumb caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears.

"It's nothing, it's—" Her voice was hoarse. It wasn't nothing, but it wasn't anything he needed to worry about. She supposed she should tell him, but she didn't know how she could without crying. She didn't want him to worry, though; yesterday she'd caught the concern on his face as she'd gone out in the rain on her own, agonizing over whether to tell him, over what she should do. But they were a team—they needed to decide this together. "Jason—yesterday. After you left. Nika…she told me she was pregnant."

"Oh," said Jason. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure. Is that what upset you yesterday? It is hard to deal with—a girl so young, her life ripped apart, has to bear the child of the man who…." He closed his eyes and swallowed the brutal word.

"What she had to live with for months—I can't imagine. She felt the baby would be a monster, but I told her it was part of her, too, and would have…" Her voice faltered, "a good upbringing. I told her I-" Pain writhed in her stomach. "I told her I lost my baby. She thought that…maybe I would…be a good choice to adopt. I mean, we. I didn't promise anything. I said I would ask you. But just me saying that gave her such hope—I didn't want to let her down by saying no."

He looked at her searchingly. "So you wouldn't want to adopt?"

"I didn't feel any more ready to adopt than I did to get pregnant. I mean, there are a ton of moms who'd be better than me at raising a kid—"

Jason smiled softly. "I don't know about that." He slid the last stray strand of hair behind her ear, slid his hand down to rest on her shoulder, leaving her skin tingling from his touch. "You would be an amazing mom. That I know."

Tears stung her eyes. "I…thank you Jason." Her chest tightened, aching. "I might not be the best, but that doesn't mean I couldn't do my best to raise a…" Her voice caught and tears spilled onto her cheeks— "beautiful little girl."

Jason held her close and she buried her face in his strong chest as sobs shook her. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair back, and she clung to him, her fist wrenching the back of his shirt. She pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling the throb of his heart.

She pushed away just a little and looked up at him, his face blurry beyond the tears. "I was in shock, I think. That's what was wrong with me yesterday…."

"I thought you just needed your space."

"It didn't seem to help—and I came back here and must've fallen asleep. But this morning—I felt different. For one thing…some of the pain…just a little….is gone. Just enough so I can see…" She held back a sob. "See a future…with—" More tears poured, joining the others. "With a baby of my own. Maybe it means…I'd be okay with getting pregnant. Or maybe it means—" she felt a sort of mystified wonder— "that we…should adopt."

"We talked about that before…"

"But now it's real. Nika needs us."

"Do you think God's calling you to this?"

"I don't know. But—I feel like I should help them. And I feel—this connection with the baby. More today than yesterday, maybe because it was so sudden. I called it a he then, but now I feel like it's a...a little girl." She fought the tears and forged on. "It wouldn't be easy, but—God calls us to do uncomfortable things. We shouldn't just—deny it. Like I did yesterday." She looked into his eyes, searching for what he felt. "But it has to be both our decisions."

"I'll have to think about it."

Her heart sank. "You don't think we should?"

"No—I didn't say that! I just—it's so sudden." He smiled slightly, looking a bit bewildered.

"I suppose I did sort of spring it on you."

"I guess it's just—" He laughed a little. "I'm used to you not wanting children yet—and now—"

She laughed. "Yeah— I'm kind of surprising myself. I sort of…don't want to stop and think too much, or I might talk myself out of it. Go back to what I…used to feel. It's not like this baby would replace Jeremiah or anything. No one ever can." She took a deep breath. "But I think…maybe not having to wait so long—she's five months along—might help. There's this—emptiness." She pressed her hand to her heart. "After he was…gone. The new baby won't be the same, but she'll take up some of the emptiness."

He sat up and she slid up against the pillows beside him, leaning against his chest, his strong arms supporting her. She clasped his hand in hers.

"It's not like we could just take the baby back to the States right away."

"But we could get things going now, right?"

He nodded. "And…it's not like I don't have contacts in the Muldavian government who could help speed things along."

Her heart leaped as he seemed to be warming to the idea. "We'll have to think about it… pray about it… we'll have time."

He kissed the top of her shoulder, desire in his eyes, but then he pulled away and slid out of bed. She ached with the absence of his touch, longed for more. But she supposed it was time to start the day. Reluctantly, she slipped out of bed and turned just to see him tug his shirt over his head on the way to the shower. She gasped at the beauty of his muscled back, glimpsed before he disappeared into the bathroom. The sunlight caught his scars, which made her heart twist in sympathy for the pain he'd endured. She longed to kiss his scars, remind him how they didn't detract from his beauty, how she wished she could kiss all his pain away. And her mind flashed back to that first night of their honeymoon in Paraguay. The passion they'd shared, how fulfilled she'd felt, and how her heart overflowed with love. And then—the long absence, the darkness spread over her soul, how she'd kept herself from him in almost every way…how patient he'd been with her—and how wonderful it had been to be back together. But now she was keeping herself from him again—and how obliging he was being—but she'd seen the desire in his eyes, and it matched her own. The pain was dulled enough now she could perhaps risk getting pregnant, risk not waiting until the birth control fully kicked in…. But then there was the adoption. It would be hard to have two babies…lots of moms had twins, and these would be at least several months apart. But still—it would complicate things. And they were in the middle of a mission, and she didn't want to distract Jason. In any case, it was morning and they needed to get to work…. Connie hoped she'd be able to help, more than in the way he told her she helped just by being by his side.

She turned toward the closed bathroom door, aching with longing, considering going in and at least giving him a kiss. But they might get carried away…and maybe they should just wait a few more days, maybe the mission would be over by then, and they could just immerse in each other and give each other everything they wanted, no distractions…. Nothing to keep them apart…the second honeymoon they needed….

She turned away and sat on the bed, unclipping her phone from the charger, and scrolled through it, trying to distract herself. But her mind kept flying back to him, his beautiful image splashed in front of her eyes, imagining every detail she could remember…the tender, passionate way he loved….

The bathroom door swung open and he emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin glistening, his damp hair tousled. His beauty stunned her. She admired his graceful movements as he walked around the room, snatching clothes from his suitcase. Part of her wished the towel would just drop, but it stayed stubbornly around his waist….

He walked into the bathroom, the door open, and emerged a minute later wearing jeans. Still shirtless. He dug in the shirt side of his suitcase, pulling out a few before settling on a dark gray one and folding it over his arm as he stood.

She hated the idea that that shirt would soon cover his magnificent form so she stood and rushed over to him, laying a hand on his chest just as he was about to sling it over his head.

He looked at her questioningly; she gazed up into his eyes, the longing so intense it was a deep pain stabbing her heart with every beat. She laid a trembling hand on his shoulder.

"Connie—" he said softly. She pressed her lips to his, savoring his taste, everything else fading into insignificance. His shirt dropped to the floor as he grasped her waist and a thrill burst through her at his closeness, at the hunger of his lips against hers.

She pulled back a little, reveling in the fathomless blue in his eyes, delicately tracing the contours of his chest and lingering on each feature, showing him how she loved every part of him without reservation. He gasped, his lips parting slightly; she kissed his chest, feeling the throb of his heart beneath her lips, its beat quickening. She looked back up at him, at the desperate longing in his eyes, and gently caressed his shoulders, then kissed along his collarbone then up to his neck. His breath caught.

He needed her. Why should she keep herself from him? He'd denied himself for a long time, keeping a respectful distance. It was time to consider what he wanted for a change. She slid her hands down his sides, her kiss intensifying, signaling the explosion of passion to come, but he laid a hand on her shoulder, anguish in his eyes. "We'd better wait," he said.

She nodded, acknowledging his wishes, trying to smother the desperate longing inside her. As she turned away, he grasped her shoulder. "Later," he said, and kissed her cheek. Swept her hair aside, and kissed the back of her neck, the soft pressure of his lips lingering. Then he stepped away, leaving her empty, aching for his touch, and picked up his shirt from the floor.

He was right. Now was not the time…. Perhaps tonight. She could hardly breathe thinking about it. But she forced herself to move, to gather some clothes, while he went back into the bathroom to comb his hair. She absently pulled on jeans and a dark t-shirt, barely realizing she had subconsciously matched him.

As they headed out into the hallway, he took her hand and they walked to the breakfast room. Waffles, strawberries, blueberries, and smoothies were set around the table in the otherwise empty room.

"Suppose we're a bit late?" she said.

Jason sat down beside her. "It's only eight. I wouldn't be surprised if Tasha and Gray were out already. We've barely seen them the past few days."

"They wouldn't be undercover yet, would they?"

"I don't know. Not sure if they'd tell us if they were."

Connie felt a stab of disappointment; she would miss their company and hoped they would stay safe.

She took a few waffles and doused them with berries and smothered them with whipped cream and then chopped a generous double-decker portion and stuffed it in her mouth. Jason looked at her and laughed and then cut a more conservative portion.

The waffles tasted heavenly—they were light and airy, with just the right amount of berry juice soaked through. Jason looked at her. "Connie—wait. you have a bit of—" He reached toward her tentatively.

"What?"

"Whipped cream. Right—there—"

He leaned in, touching her chin, and kissed her, delicately licking off the cream. He pulled away, but she grasped the back of his neck. "Don't stop."

He pressed his lips to hers again, slowly, with smoldering passion, his hand sliding into her hair. Close to her ear, he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you. My Jason." Who cared about breakfast. All she wanted was him.

"Maybe we should—"

"Go back…"

He nodded. She slid her fingers into his hair, reveling in its softness—

A throat cleared behind her.

She gasped in surprise.

Tasha stood in the doorway.

"Oh!" said Connie. "I um—"

Tasha smiled. "That's all right." Her cheeks reddened slightly. "Is it okay or should I come back at a better time?"

"No—it's fine," said Jason. "We were getting a bit…carried away." He gave Connie a meaningful look, his blue eyes dancing.

"If you're sure…"

Jason nodded. "This isn't exactly the place. We could go back to our suite—" He looked at Connie.

"Well…we really better start the day," she said reluctantly. Perhaps this was enough to tide her over for a few days. They could kiss—pretend they weren't married yet—and then when they could barely stand it anymore—it would be all the more intense from waiting. Just that thought made her tremble in anticipation so she had to steady her hands before she could venture to stab a slice of waffle.

Tasha sat down opposite them and slid a waffle onto her plate, not looking at them and then looking at her phone as she began to eat. Connie had the sense that she was being polite, giving them their space, but it also felt a bit awkward, although Tasha was so graceful awkwardness was barely in her repertoire.

Jason gently caressed stray locks of Connie's hair, just barely brushing her cheek, giving her a look brimming with love and admiration.

They ate in silence for a few moments, then he asked Tasha, "So—how is the mission going? Not that you can probably tell me much, but…"

Tasha looked up from her phone, mild surprise on her face. "We've finished the test run. It might help to wait a few more days before jumping off the deep end, but Gray's eager to start. Markov thinks we're ready."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "He's not easy to please."

She nodded. "Gray's done so well he's reversed his opinion to guarded enthusiasm. I feel like we may be rushing things a bit…but then, certain developments are accelerating and Markov's willing to cut some corners to get us in the field."

"Perhaps you should listen to your reservations. It's not a good thing to go undercover when you're not mentally prepared."

"That's true. But we do have a lot of support. We're both veterans of undercover work. And Gray and I… it's strange to say this but—we work well together as a team. He's a consummate professional—at least…when his symptoms are under control."

"So…he's doing well?"

Tasha nodded. "As well as can be expected, under the circumstances. I mean—just a few days ago—" her eyes darted to the door, and she continued when she seemed satisfied no one was there – "he was still hurting himself, even after the incident when we first arrived. But I've barely seen evidence of his trauma since then. Only when he's alone with me does the mask come off and I see the depth of anguish that's still behind it. During the interrogations yesterday, I could see the seams fraying. It hit too close to home, I think—a cell, a man tied and helpless. He couldn't wait to get out of there. It does mean he can empathize with others; in that way, it's progress. But going on this mission…I just hope he's able to keep his symptoms hidden. Because I don't think he can smother them completely in only a few days. He's trying by sheer force of will. I'm not sure if that will be enough."

"At least he'll only have minimal contact with the cell leaders. Unless I'm misinterpreting the parameters of your mission."

"You're right. But that's as much as I can say." She smiled cryptically.

A ghostly form appeared in corner of Connie's eye. Gray swept into the room almost silently, gliding across the carpet, his dark gray shirt and pants complementing his blond hair and enhancing the blue in his eyes. He sat down beside Tasha, his face calm, his bearing deliberate and confident. Connie felt a sting of apprehension. He almost seemed like the old Gray, a hint of ruthless strength in his demeanor.

A soft easy smile. "Sorry I'm late."

"That's all right," said Tasha. "We've got time."

He took three waffles and poured strawberry juice onto them until they were soaked red. Then he stabbed a triple triangle of them. As he lifted the fork, Connie could see that he wasn't wearing the bandage on his arm. Crisscrossing slashes marred it, some of the wounds just beginning to heal. A pang sliced Connie's heart. He'd done that to himself.

Gray caught her glance and hesitated, then kept eating. She felt horrible for making him feel uncomfortable.

Then he put down the fork and carefully brushed his arm near the wounds. "Plenty of battle scars to show off." His eyes shadowed with the reminiscence of pain. "They won't hurt my mission as long as I can pull off the cover story." His jaw tightened as if steeling himself, his eyes hardening like ice. "I can't afford to show any vulnerabilities or…well, people in this game crush any perception of weakness."

"Our survival depends on strength," said Tasha. "Fortunately, we won't have to be with the traffickers for long periods of time, just enough to buy their weapons."

"Our control can't slip once, though, or we're done for."

"Don't worry about me. I've been an agent for almost twenty years."

"Pride can be…a weakness in itself." His eyes shadowed and he seemed to shrink in on himself.

Tasha narrowed her eyes but then looked at him and her expression softened. "Can happen to the best of us."

"And I was the best." His eyes were haunted, desperate.

"You can be again."

"Thank you for this chance." He lifted a piece of waffle to his mouth, then paled. He set it down, looking a little sick.

"What's wrong?" said Tasha softly.

"Nothing. Just—momentary weakness." He wore a disgusted look.

She glanced at the waffle, a flesh-colored mass drenched in red. "We can get you something else."

"No. I've got to push through this. Just—give me a moment." He sighed, sat back, breathing hard.

Connie looked at her waffle. It didn't look very appetizing now either…. Jason and Tasha kept eating though, so she followed their example and gave Gray his space. Finally he dug in again and slowly ate until his breakfast was halfway gone.

He set his fork down. "I want to say thank you," he said, looking at Jason and Connie, his eyes earnest. "You have given me strength. That is an invaluable gift. You've given me understanding when you owed me none. Even forgiveness." He looked incredulous. "You owed me—the worst I could get." He closed his eyes, a pained crease in his brow. "I will be forever grateful. No matter what happens on this mission, I want you to know that." He looked at Jason, then Connie, and she could hardly bear the intense emotions blazing in his eyes—anguish, sorrow—and something else she couldn't define.

"I'm glad I could help," she said, although she wasn't sure how much she'd done. Forgiveness had been as much for herself as for him. She hadn't sacrificed her freedom as Jason had.

"If there's anything I can do—" said Jason.

"You've done—more than I could ever ask. Now it's time for me to head out on my own. I only hope—well, I'll find out soon enough if I'm ready. But if I don't do this now, I may never get another chance." He held his head high, looking proud and determined and fragile all at once. Connie's heart went out to him, but she also felt afraid—although she wasn't sure if it was for him, or for his enemies.

"Are you ready?" said Tasha, looking at Gray.

He nodded, looking askance at the leftover waffle on his plate. He stood and walked over to the door, and Tasha accompanied him.

"Now, this is probably the last time we'll see you in a while," said Tasha. "We'll be deep cover, living totally separate lives. For security reasons, we can't tell you where we'll be or how long. No details. You know the drill." She looked at Jason. "I wish you the best for your own mission. Stay safe."

"We're not the ones going out on a dangerous assignment," said Jason, a hint of—was that regret in his voice? Connie's heart flipped. Did he really want to go into danger again? It wasn't like there hadn't been a trend of changing minds lately…. But she hoped she'd only imagined it.

"Yes, but Yavesh agents aren't to be underestimated. Now that we've gone through our preliminary investigation, I see more what Markov means when he says there is no real safe space when investigating them. So be careful."

"You too. I'll be praying."

Tasha smiled wryly. "Thanks." She turned to Connie, taking a step closer. "Take care of him, Connie."

"I will." I'll try. That's what I want to do with all my heart, but I don't know if I'll ever be adequate to the task…

"Farewell," said Gray. "I may not see you again."

Tasha said, "You don't know that."

"No, but in any case, I won't be the same the next time you see me. If I don't succeed—I'll probably be dead. If I do succeed, it'll mean I've become someone else—someone stronger than Gray ever was."

He turned swiftly and walked away without a backward glance. Tasha followed him.

Connie took a deep breath. The room felt empty with their absence. And she felt a vague dread; she wasn't sure if it was for Jason or for Tasha and Gray. She tried to shake it off but it stayed simmering beneath the surface.

"All right," said Jason. "I'm thinking we should start with the leads Ana gave us, because they can be followed up on the Internet whenever we have any spare time. You could even work on it on your own if you don't want to go with me when I leave."

Her heart leaped. "Sure." She was glad to have a potential task she could actually do, although she wasn't exactly proficient with computers…it depended on how complicated it was.

"Plus, it's probably the safest way to investigate."

"Nothing's safe from Yavesh."

He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose…we have to be okay with a certain amount of danger if we're going to do anything at all. We'll pull out if it feels like they may be closing in."

"What if we can't? What if we can't even sense if they're getting close before it's too late?"

Concern spread over his features. "I hope I'm still good enough of an agent to sense that. I want to be able to get you out of their reach before they can hurt you."

"And you."

"I don't want to leave you alone." Pain shot through his eyes. "But if…" He shook his head, as if trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought. "Let's get going, shall we?"

He grabbed his laptop and they went out in a small room that looked out onto the garden. She sat down in one of the ornate white chairs with puffy comfortable cushions. The dew in the lush grass refracted into million rainbows and she reveled in the roses, their colors splashed with brilliant sunlight. Mist rolled over the hills, hiding in remote corners to dissipate. The gazebo gleamed a bone white.

Her mind flashed back to Gray that first morning, standing in the rain as she tried to offer her umbrella, red dripping from the drenched shred of Jason's shirt around his arm…the self-inflicted wounds born from pain so deep she didn't want to imagine. Now, so soon after, he seemed better. Different somehow. She wished she could have done more for him. There was nothing she could do for him now except pray—which she should have been doing all along.

"Okay," said Jason, setting a piece of note paper beside his open laptop. "Here's the list Ana gave us of the list of buyers. This'll be tricky because she wasn't sure if she could remember them accurately. It might take some doing…" He stopped, his eyes sparked with concern. "This is new territory for me, too. We might be heading into some dark corners of the Internet…we might see things we'd want to unsee. Maybe you'd rather not do this after all."

She wanted to help, but apprehension flooded her. She hadn't been able to stand the video on the plane, and those photos of the agent… But Ana, Nika and the others hadn't had a choice but face months of torment. If there was a chance there was anything she could do, anything she could learn from this, so she could help them find justice and find the girls still trapped in that life….

"It's okay," she said, bracing herself for the most corrupt recesses of the Internet.

Jason searched for a while, ending up in a few dead ends on the dark web. Finally he stopped at a rather benign-looking page, a black web site with a blinking cursor at the username and password boxes in the center. He typed in a new username, funseeker12, and password. And then a new page loaded.

Multiple files appeared. Screenshots of videos in different categories. Just the hints of the images out of the corner of her eye were enough for her to get an idea of what they were, and she didn't want to go further.

"Are they-?" she asked, her voice small and shallow.

"All of them. Taken of people against their will."

A cold shockwave spread through her. These were not willing subjects. They had been abused, violated without their consent—the worst moments of their lives captured on camera. Ana could be on here somewhere. She leaned her head in her hand, fighting the sudden undertow of nausea.

"Are you okay?" said Jason.

She nodded. "Just a minute."

"If you'd rather not—"

She shook her head. "I can do this." The least I can do is be with them during their worst moments. Not—she shuddered—to enjoy it like most people coming to these sites, but to detect ways to catch their abusers. The thought sent a tide of strength through her.

Still, she couldn't help but look at the pages sideways as Jason flipped through them, thankfully not lingering on them long. Mostly he paused the videos before they could start and looked through the comments below them, searching for the usernames on Ana's list, or ones similar. She still caught glimpses of some of the screenshots and saw things she wished she could erase from her mind. Even the descriptions were graphic enough. How anyone could want to click on something like that she didn't know. So many of the titles had "rape" in them. Even if they didn't think it was real—why on earth would someone want to watch something like that?

One of the videos began loading before Jason paused it. A small, thin Indian girl who looked no more than thirteen was cowering in a corner. A man in a mask came in and grabbed her, yanking her arm roughly. She shrieked. Tears ran down her cheeks. Connie longed to help her—to reach out and pull her out of the video before the man could hurt her—but she was helpless as the man tied her wrists with rough rope as she sobbed…

Jason paused the video, looking as devastated as Connie felt. The cursor moved to the date of the video, which was two years ago. Connie's heart sank. It was probably too late to save her.

Jason's fist clenched and anger flashed through his eyes. "We've got to take these guys down. Trace the origin of each of these videos." He looked at her, anguish in his eyes. "We can't allow this to happen."

Connie nodded, feeling the same anger but also despair. How could she possibly do anything? She didn't even know how Jason had gotten to this site. And if seeing such things made her sick and emotionally drained even after half an hour…how much investigation could she take before she fell apart and couldn't do anything anyway?

He scrolled down the comments, skimming the usernames.

"Aha!" he said. He pointed to a name. Sure enough, it was enchanted_kaiser.

The comment read, "This video is one of my favorites. But guess what! I know a site with even hotter girls. If you want it, pm me."

"Good thing this site isn't updated much anymore," said Jason.

"How come?" said Connie, still so shaken from the video she could hardly think.

"Because the owner doesn't seem to be moderating it. Or he'd take down comments from rival sites. On the other hand, if enchanted_kaiser isn't set up to get alerts from comments here, he might not come back to check, since the site seems to have slowed down a bit. There might be more lucrative places to get clients from."

She wondered how he could detach himself enough to get into investigative mode, but he did have practice. She wasn't sure how you suppressed your emotions after seeing such things to think logically, but then, logic had never been her strong point.

Jason typed a comment on enchanted_kaiser's profile page. "Hey, can you hook me up with that site you mentioned? I'm desperate, this site seems to have dried up a bit. :("

He sat back. "Hopefully, he'll take the bait. Then we'll have a direct line of communication with him. Hey, do you want to get your own username? Then you can follow these trails on your own."

"I'm…not really sure how you do it."

"Pretty much what we've just done, enter usernames and look to see if they advertise sites of their own. Or post links. Or let slip anything that could identify them."

"I mean, it's hard enough for me to look at this. To—pretend to be one of them—I don't know if I could do that."

He nodded. "As an undercover agent, you have to pretend to be some pretty despicable characters. You just have to make sure to keep your persona separate from your personality—not get lost in the labyrinth." He gave a rueful smile. "I don't see how I would ever get that lost though. To—want to see these—" A look of disgust crossed his face. "It's easier to just type a comment than to do what Tasha and Gray are about to do now—fully pull on the mask of someone evil."

"Well, if it helps girls like Ana and Nika…. And Ben…maybe I could try…."

"I'll give you some tips. Show you how to get through the backdoor. You'll need money to get in, but we've got the funds."

It hit her that with the amount that Ben's father was paying them, they could use it for the adoption. "We don't want to use all of it up, though."

"We're on a budget. But at the same time—I don't want to spare any resources to catch these guys. If you're up to it, you could also watch some of these videos, see if you could pick up any clues."

"I…"

"I don't like the idea myself. But if it helps these kids…. It's something pretty low tech you could do on your own."

"Maybe later…." It would probably take her a long time to get through one…. She'd have to recover from what she'd just seen first. Although kids like these needed help now.

"I'll give you some things to pick up on. You could even pretend to be me when I'm not here. But it is good to have a variety of accounts to tag team it so we don't look too eager by one username pestering them all the time."

While scrolling through comments, he explained some techniques for working undercover online. It was a welcome distraction from the videos—his advice was general and not specific to human trafficking. In the meantime, he found a few more comments by enchanted_kaiser, but none by any of the other potential usernames. At Jason's encouragement, she thought up a username and logged in on several different sites on her iPad, buying a subscription for each of them. Connie found it easier to avoid seeing the videos on her iPad and began to look for Ana's list of usernames. She even found a username which seemed sort of similar to one of them, though not the same- risingstar vs. the original, starsrising. It was harder to craft a message; she ended up posting a rather generic one but hoped it would work. A thrill ran through her as she hit send. She might actually be taking a small step toward helping enslaved kids!

She was about to tell Jason, as he'd been absorbed in his work and she hadn't wanted to distract him unless she needed help, but his computer pinged.

"What's that?" she said.

He checked. "It's enchanted_kaiser! He's taken the bait. Here." He switched to one of the first tabs to his profile page on the dark site. Sure enough, a message. "I've got just the thing for you! Here's the link: www. reallifeslaves. com. Have fun! 😊"

It hit her that this was a real human trafficker. Who profited from the suffering of innocent human beings. A lightning bolt of anger struck her and she couldn't stand the thought of sitting there doing nothing when he was out there, free, escaping punishment.

"Here we go," said Jason. He clicked the link which opened in another tab. Where the previous site was dark and serious, this was bright and flashy. Bold fuchsia letters proclaimed across the top, "Real Life Slaves—guaranteed to satisfy your cravings. Welcome to the hottest site on the Internet. 😉"

Near the top was a featured video called "Positive punishment." It played for a few seconds then Jason paused it, but not before it showed a young girl tied to a post in the middle of the room, her hands bound above her head. She had long blond hair that flowed down her back. She wore only a slight shift, some of it stained red, and she was shaking. Bruises showed along her thighs, some of which looked like fingerprints. Just as Jason paused it, she turned her head in profile, freezing the frame to a face that was pale and tearstained.

Connie's heart stopped.

It was Ana.

The video was a little pixelated, and her rather gaunt, pain-wracked face was much different from the one she'd seen the day before, haunted but with the light of hope in her eyes. This Ana was in the midst of torment and terror she'd had to climb out of, fight every day to be rid of despite the constant nightmares shadowing her mind.

Fury blazed through her, flashing through her mind so it blocked out the image. "Jason—it's—"

"I know." He took her hand. She could feel the same anger coursing through him like electric current.

"We can't leave it on here for everyone—" She choked on the words. That it was the featured video—that people came here and paid to see Ana's worst moments—was unbearable.

"We need to take him down." He scrolled only to see other videos with "lock" signs over screenshots of other girls being tortured.

"First step is to get a membership," he said. "I hate the thought of supporting them. It'll be a painstaking process. Unless…we could cut through it somehow. I know my way around computers but I'm no expert. I wonder…you suppose Eugene would be up for it? If he has a program that could hack into it?"

"Well…if anyone can, he can."

"Would he have time, do you suppose?"

"I think he'd want to help. He'd make time." Though she wasn't sure what could and couldn't be done with computers, Eugene would know.

"Well, it's 1 a.m. in Odyssey right now so we can't call him. IM's best anyway since he can get back to us when it's convenient. By the way, I tried to message Dad last night, but he didn't answer. He might've been in the middle of a flight. Or…he could be in the Philippines."

Her heart did a hard thump. Whit could be in danger. He was usually safe in Odyssey— now she'd have to worry about the both of them. Not worry, pray, she amended, though she couldn't squelch the tension in her stomach.

While Jason messaged Eugene and Sierra, Connie texted Whit, asking him if he was okay and if he knew any more about where Jerry's son Tam was. They didn't get any immediate replies, so they got back to the investigation.

After Jason signed up for the site, he brought up the paused image of Ana again. "I hate the thought—but maybe we should watch it. Look for clues. They cleaned up their operation pretty thoroughly. But if there's even the slightest chance—" He looked at her.

"I don't know if she'd want us to see it. I wouldn't be able to stand the thought if.…"

"Well…it's not the same thing, but…I know you and Dad saw the video that Will sent of me getting…tortured. I'm glad you saw it—because you were able to find a clue to rescue me. If this helps catch them—"

"It was really hard for me to watch that. Whit said he was able to do it by focusing on the background."

"That's probably what we should focus on. That and the traffickers. The smallest detail could help catch them."

She nodded. It was the smallest of details that had led them to the cabin where Jason was being held. But even the background hadn't been neutral. She distinctly remembered splotches of blood on the floor…. Jason's blood. She tried to shake off that horrific image but it stayed in the back of her mind.

"To see a complete picture, we should probably watch all of the ones Ana is on, and ones we can link to the same source, so we can track down her traffickers. But—I'd like to get this site killed. And find the people who enslaved the other girls on here. I'd have to watch every single video…. I don't know how I could stand to do that. If we could crowdsource this…get other people on it…. we'd have more of a chance. The best thing would be to crush demand for it. But that's not going to happen. These depraved idiots who watch this deserve to be punished. They're just as responsible as the traffickers." His jaw clenched.

He pressed play.

Ana struggled weakly against the rope that bound her wrists to a ring above her head. Her wrists were already raw, and blood ran down her arm from cuts that looked almost fresh.

Connie recalled Ana had described trying to commit suicide by cutting her wrists with broken glass and being punished for it…. her stomach turned over at the thought of what was about to happen.

A door opened off camera. Ana jumped, struggling desperately to free herself. A man in black pants and a leather jacket appeared, his back to the camera. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back. She shrieked in pain.

"You deserve punishment, don't you," he said.

"Please…please…let me go…."

He brought up a gloved hand and caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears. "If you don't answer, your punishment will be worse."

"Yes…I deserve punishment… please— don't hurt me…." Sobs wracked her voice.

He chuckled. "That's the very definition of punishment. You're stupid—but very beautiful." He caressed her shoulder. Then he stepped back, out of the picture for a moment. There was a rustling sound. Then a soft dragging noise as he came back into view. He held a long, thin whip.

"No—please—I'll be good! I won't do it again, I promise."

"Begging won't help you. What you did was very bad. You've got to learn your lesson." He slid off his leather jacket and tossed it on the floor behind him.

He raised the whip. It thwacked down onto Ana's back, tearing through the slight shift, and slashing a cut into her skin. She cried out in agony.

Connie turned away, nausea gnawing her stomach. She leaned her head in her hand but she couldn't drown out the sound of the whip, Ana's screams, or the man's callous voice.

I have to help. By watching. Not focus on the torture… focus on the background…. She looked again, blocking out the middle of the screen.

The room had nothing in it. Just gray blank walls…. Cement floor… She ventured another look. Ana's back was raw, crisscrossing whip cuts slashed across it. She hung by her wrists, her body shaken with silent sobs.

Jason was pale, his face drained of all color. His chest heaved with almost panicked breaths.

She grasped his hand—he startled a little but then squeezed her hand before she could withdraw it and gave her a small smile.

"Jason—are you okay?"

"No—I mean—it hits too close to home, I think. To see it— She so young…. I can still feel the whip. It's—it's like I'm there. Back in the cabin. I feel what she feels—"

"It can't stand to watch it, but I don't have PTSD like you do. We should stop it."

"I… can't let it be for nothing…."

The punisher ripped the bloodied shreds of Ana's shift, tearing it in two. He ran one finger down her bloodied back. Slid his other hand in her hair as she trembled, her face as pale as Jason's, her freckles standing out in sharp relief. She seemed barely conscious.

But the man wasn't finished. He reached for his belt.

Jason lurched forward and paused the video before it hit Connie what was going on.

Then she realized. Her stomach twisted. She leaned her head in her hand.

No, she couldn't do this. Didn't know how anyone could.

Jason laid his hand on her back and rubbed it gently, but she could feel him trembling still. Tears streamed from her eyes onto the glass of the table. Iridescent droplets slid across it and she watched them with detached fascination. Anything but face what Ana had had to.

"I don't…think I can do it after all," said Jason. "It's too—too much. I want to help them but I can't because of what I experienced—too much empathy maybe isn't a good thing."

She looked at him, avoiding the image frozen on the screen. "You endured more than anyone should have to. I don't want you to have to relive it over and over again. You can help in other ways."

He nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Torture is one thing. But even if I could make myself, I'm not knowingly going to watch—that. No one should." He glanced at the screen. "There has to be enough clues in the first parts. I can't watch those either….. I'll have to just be content to message this disgusting piece of—" He slammed his fist down on the table and it shook with the force of the blow, making her wonder if the glass had cracked.

She clasped her hand in his. "Maybe I can…watch some of the first parts. Look for clues in the background. It makes me sick but—even though it reminds me what happened to you, it's not like I actually went through it myself. As long as I can stop it before—" It was one thing to know what Ana had experienced, another thing to see it. The depths of scars she'd had to heal from— Connie admired her strength even more now. How she could be cheerful, a mentor to the other girls, and even want to fight human trafficking herself.

And then there was Nika, still struggling with recovery. Doing well, considering…she was carrying the child of her rapist.

No—it wasn't his child. It was hers. She was caring for it. She was going to make sure it had a loving home.

What strength Nika had, too.

Tears spilled from Connie's eyes and Jason slid his chair near hers and held her close.

He exited the site. "There's got to be a way to find out who that man is. All his accomplices, too. They're still out there—probably kidnapping more kids. I have to find them. And when I do—" His hand clenched into a fist. "They need more than prosecution. They need punishment. They need pain. I know that's wrong, but right now—I don't care."

Awe filled her at his righteous anger. Those people should feel some of the pain they'd caused. Ana had been little more than a child, a naïve teenager, and now—it was only her strength that was giving her a future. And Nika…

There was one way she knew of they could help Nika. Adopt her baby. She had no doubt Jason would agree.

But what about Ana? If they couldn't get this video taken off yet…there had to be something they could do for her.

"Isn't there a way we can help Ana now?" she asked.

"There might be a way to help her and help others at the same time… Having experienced what she did, and the determination she has—I should've thought of this before. But I was a bit preoccupied."

"What is it?"

"Markov. I need to ask him a favor." He grabbed his phone.