After Grandma Betty secretly sold me to Ray, the trafficker, Mom lost her mind. Dad, until the day he died, never forgave my brother Michael for not taking better care of me. Michael spent ten years searching for me, traveling across the country. When he finally lost hope, he slit his wrists and ended his life… Meanwhile, Grandma Betty and Uncle Matt took over our home and all our family’s possessions. I once thought about setting the house on fire and burning them alive, but then, something unexpected happened—I was reborn. I vividly remember that after she pocketed the money, Grandma told Ray, “Take the girl, but leave my grandson out of it.” … If I hadn’t been kidnapped, I would have been the beloved princess of the family. Dad, Mom, and Michael would have doted on me like I was the center of their world. But instead, I was sold off to the Appalachian Mountains, where I became dull and mentally impaired after suffering from a high fever for too long. The family that bought me realized I was no longer of any use to them, just an extra mouth to feed. So, they sold me off again. I was passed from one family to another until no one wanted to buy me anymore. In the end, they said I might be brainless, but my kidneys were still good, and so was my heart. So, I was trafficked for my organs and died. Only in death was I able to return home. That’s when I learned that Dad and Mom couldn’t bear the grief of losing me. They both passed away, leaving Michael all alone. But Michael never gave up on me. For years, he carried my photo from place to place, asking everyone he met if they had seen the girl in the picture. “She’s my little sister,” he would say, “She’s beautiful and sweet.” He wore his shoes down to the soles and wouldn’t even spend money on instant noodles, surviving on just a cup of water and a bread roll every day. At night, he clutched my picture and cried. When he finally heard the news of my death, his emaciated body could take no more. “Dad! Mom! Sis, wait for me—I’m coming to find you!!” As the blade sliced across his wrist… “Michael!” I tried to reach out and save him, but my hand passed through his body. My heart filled with agony. What was I supposed to do? Was I really going to have to watch my family die one by one because of me? Just then, a bright light flooded through the window. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in the back of a smelly truck, the stench of cigarettes burning my nose. I locked my gaze on the man in the black leather jacket. It was him! That damned trafficker—Ray. He pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket, handing them to the woman across from him. “Here you go, count it, 500 bucks. Heard you’ve got two boys too. How about I pay you triple for them?” So it was for a mere $500 that my family was destroyed. Through the cigarette smoke, I saw Grandma Betty’s familiar, kind face. She smiled as she stuffed the money into her pocket. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not selling my grandson.” A chill ran through me. Tears welled up in my eyes. Why? Why would Grandma do this? Why would she sell me? Ray voiced the question gnawing at my heart. “Aren’t you afraid your son’s going to find out you sold his daughter?” “Who’s going to tell him? You? Me? No one will ever know,” Grandma muttered in her thick country accent. “And what’s wrong with selling a granddaughter? Girls are raised for someone else anyway. If I don’t sell her now, I’ll have to eventually.” She continued, “Michael’s already in jail, and I asked him for $1,000 for bail. He refused. If he won’t help his own brother, why should I coddle some useless little girl? Selling her was his fault for being so stubborn.” Ray laughed heartily. “Well, next time you’ve got more, you know where to find me.” Grandma added, “With this money, I can finally get my oldest son out of jail!” Then, as if it wasn’t enough, she urged, “Make sure you sell my granddaughter far away, somewhere she can’t run back. Fewer mouths to feed, and maybe my youngest son will send me more support money.” Because of that one sentence, in my previous life, I was sold off to the deep, hidden corners of the Midwest, never to see the light of day again—until I died. But this time, I’m going to make them all pay. The sedatives hadn’t completely worn off, but I mentally marked every stop along the way, waiting for the perfect moment to escape. Besides me, there was another boy in the truck, a delicate little kid who was sound asleep—another one of Ray’s victims, no doubt. The truck stopped on a small road near Central Train Station. A woman in a hat leaned against the window and whispered, “Vince, did you bring any boys this time?” Vince looked around cautiously before nodding. “Yeah, one boy. $1,200.” “Deal.” The woman handed him the cash, excitement in her eyes as she turned and revealed a basket on her back. “Put the boy in here.” “Mama, don’t leave me behind! Take me and my brother with you!” I cried, grabbing the woman’s sleeve. I knew this was my chance. “What do I need a girl for?” She turned her head, but I caught a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. The boy woke up just then and, without missing a beat, joined in, crying out for his sister. Vince took the opportunity to pitch me to the woman. “Buy her too! She’ll be company for the boy. Girls are cheap, and she can do housework. I’m giving you a deal here, Martha—$700, take her.” The woman hesitated, but in the end, I was sold again, this time for a $200 difference. Martha covered the basket with a cloth, leaving us unseen and unwatched. She was too distracted and left us on the roadside while she went to the restroom. “You stay here and don’t move. There are traffickers everywhere around here,” she warned. Once her footsteps faded, I gently woke the boy. “Do you want to go home?” I whispered. The little guy nodded, wide-eyed but silent. “Then follow me, and don’t cry. I’ll get us out of here. But if you make a sound, I’ll leave you behind.” I put on my toughest face, and we crawled out of the basket, sprinting into the crowd. I didn’t go to the police. I couldn’t trust anyone in this town—they could be working with the traffickers. I couldn’t take that risk. At the bus station, I scraped together the last dollar in my pocket and bought two tickets. Back then, you didn’t need an ID to ride a bus. The ticket clerk looked at us suspiciously, wondering why we didn’t have any adults with us. I squeezed Tommy’s hand tight and gave her my sweetest smile. “Ma’am, we’re going to the county to meet our mom. She’s waiting for us at the station.” Once we got to town, we didn’t have enough money to buy train tickets to the city. But we had to get to the city. So, I smudged dirt on my face and started begging. Tommy’s stomach growled loudly. He was hungry, but he never asked for food, just stared longingly. I was starving too, but I forced myself to endure it. “We’re almost home.” When we couldn’t take it anymore, we dug through trash cans for scraps. After gathering enough for the tickets, I slipped behind a woman and pretended to be her child to get on the train. But just as we stepped onto the platform, the train doors still open, I heard a commotion behind us. Martha, that vile woman, pointed right at us, screaming, “That’s my boy! He’s gone! My boy’s missing!” She rushed toward us, trying to drag us off the train. Others jumped in, trying to push us toward her. “Kids shouldn’t be wandering around. Go home with your mom.” My heart pounded. Were we really not going to make it? Images of Michael slashing his wrists with our family portrait in his arms flashed through my mind. I fought back with everything I had, biting the woman’s hand and clinging to the seat. “You’re lying! You’re not my mom! Help! She’s a trafficker!” Martha let out a scream and slapped me hard across the face, the sound echoing through the train car. Her accomplice kicked me in the side. “How dare you bite your own mother?” I curled up in pain, but no one around us seemed to care. They just watched indifferently. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl stand up to help, but her mother yanked her back, whispering, “Stay out of it. It’s their family business.” My head spun, and Martha yanked my hair. “What do we do with her?” her accomplice asked. Suddenly, a small body threw itself over me. Tommy, barely able to speak, cried out, “No! You can’t take my sister!” Martha’s face softened instantly as she scooped him up. “Come on, my precious boy. Let’s go home.” The taste of blood filled my mouth, jolting my senses awake. I gathered all my strength and shouted, “You don’t even know our names! My mom loves me—she’d never hit me like that! You’re lying!” All eyes turned toward us. A few passengers stood up and blocked the exit. “Could she really be a trafficker?” one of them muttered. Martha’s eyes darted around nervously, and she backed up a few steps, stammering, “The girl’s from my husband’s first marriage. She’s always been slow in the head and runs away a lot.” In those days, it wasn’t uncommon for stepmothers to mistreat their stepchildren. Her explanation seemed to satisfy most of the onlookers. Just when I thought no one else would help, a voice rang out. “Ma’am, if that’s your son, why didn’t you notice he’s having an asthma attack?” “I’m a doctor.” A man in a suit stepped forward, his voice steady and firm. “You’re suffocating him. I doubt you’re really their mother.” Sure enough, when Tommy was pulled out of the woman’s arms, his face was flushed red, his chest heaving, and his mouth slightly open, clearly struggling to breathe. Martha and her accomplice tried to make a scene, but the conductor quickly had them thrown off the train. We were saved. Once the train finally started moving again, I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t worry,” the man said as he opened his medical kit and began treating Tommy. “He’ll be fine.” A kind conductor moved me to an empty seat and asked if I was hurt. I shook my head. The bruises and bite marks on me weren’t just from defending myself—they were a symbol of my fight for survival, my fight to take control of my fate. “Do you know where your home is, sweetheart?” he asked gently. “I do,” I nodded. How could I not know? It’s the place I thought about every single day. Even in my last life, when my mind was no longer clear, even in death, I remembered home. But back then, it was too late. By the time I returned, Mom and Dad were gone, and I had to watch Michael die, powerless to stop it. Thank God, this time, I could finally return home. I turned my head to gaze out the window, and the tears I had held back finally fell. Mom, Dad… please, please be there when I get back. The man, Dr. Andrew, was a medical student who had just returned from studying abroad. He had stumbled into this crazy situation on his way home. When I asked why he had believed me, he simply smiled. “If I was wrong, I would’ve apologized.” “But if I was right,” he continued, “I would have saved not just you, but your whole future and your family’s as well. I became a doctor to help people, and this is just another way to do that.” “Thank you…” I murmured. When the train pulled into the station, Dr. Andrew stepped off with us. He was surprised to learn that we were both from Atlanta. I shook my head. “My home isn’t here, and I don’t know where this little boy’s home is either.” “Well, where are you headed? I can take you,” he offered. I hesitated, my feet slowing. I knew better than to trust anyone at this point. But Dr. Andrew seemed to sense my reluctance. He gently patted my head and pulled out his student ID from his bag. “Look, don’t worry. I’m just trying to help. I’d hate to see you two get lost again, because next time, I might not be around to help.” Dr. Andrew was in a rush, but he made sure we got to our destination safely. Before he left, he handed me a few chocolate bars with a warm smile. “Take care, little one. Stay safe.” As I looked up at his kind face, a mix of emotions swirled inside me. The world was broken in so many ways, but there were still people like him, stitching it back together. We made it to the police station in one piece. Since I could clearly provide my family’s address, they were able to register me right away. But Tommy was different. It seemed like he hadn’t even learned to speak properly yet. The only word he had managed to say was “sister.” Other than that, he was silent, his little head bowed as he gnawed on his fingers. Officer Kate, the kind policewoman handling our case, sighed deeply. “We’ve already figured out the details on the older one, but this little guy… what are we supposed to do with him?” Tommy’s big, watery eyes looked up at me as his small hand gripped the hem of my shirt tightly. “Sister?” Logic told me that I should focus on getting home, but the sight of Tommy’s worried little face tugged at my heart. I sighed and turned to Officer Kate. “Ma’am, could you please just take both of us home? If anyone finds out who he is, they can come to my house.” What was a little more time, anyway? We had come this far together. To help prevent more children from suffering at the hands of traffickers, I gave Officer Kate a detailed description of Ray and Martha. She looked at me in amazement. “You remember all of that so clearly?” “Because if I hadn’t,” I said quietly, clenching my fists, “I might never have seen my parents again.” Tommy and I headed back to my house together. Standing in front of the front door, still decorated with the worn-out family blessing sign, I suddenly felt a wave of hesitation. If I counted my past life, it had been twenty years since I had seen Mom and Dad. Summoning all my courage, I reached for the doorknob, but it didn’t budge. The door was locked, dust gathered on the frame. A neighbor soon explained that Mom, Dad, and Michael were likely out searching for me. According to Michael, Mom would stand on the street, holding my photo, asking every passerby she saw. Even when she lost her mind, she would still grab strangers and plead, “Have you seen my daughter? She has a round face, big eyes, she’s about this tall, and she’s really cute.” Dad had neglected his business, which had finally started to do well. His hair was turning white, falling out in clumps. He slept at the train station, terrified that I might come back one day and he wouldn’t be there. In the fourth year after I went missing, Mom couldn’t bear the pain any longer and passed away. By the following March, Dad lay on his deathbed, turning away from Michael, unable to look at him. His final words were, “You have to find your sister. Bring her home…” The night had fallen, but I couldn’t wait until morning. I didn’t stop for a second, making my way back to our old home in Greenridge Village. Years later, I often thanked my lucky stars that I made it back in time. The village roads were muddy, and by three or four in the morning, all the lights were out—except for one house. As I stepped off the bus, I heard the voice that still filled me with rage. “Matt, your brother says he found a lead that can bring Kaley home. It’ll cost $20,000, but in three days, we can have her back!” Dad sounded desperate. “Mom, I swear I’m not lying. If I had $20,000, I’d give it to you right now!” In those days, having that kind of money was a rarity. Where could he possibly get it? “Just sell the factory if you have to. Ask the neighbors for loans. You can gather the money somehow, can’t you?” Uncle Matt chimed in, pretending to be worried. “The longer Kaley stays missing, the more I worry. I’ve heard that some traffickers even break children’s legs…”
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