The Girl He Sold Returned As The King’s Mate Chapter 22
If someone claiming to be family came to take a victim, their bloodline records, old missing-person files, and the victim’s own stated wishes would all have to be verified.
No one would be handed over just because of a shared last name, or because a man said, “I’m her father.”
Miriam added another rule.
During physical examinations, a female staff member chosen by the victim must be present, and no one could press for details of sexual assault in an open setting.
She said, “Rescuing someone isn’t about transferring them from one controlling document into another pair of hands.”
I wrote that sentence directly into the trial regulations.
Some on the council still objected.
“If every illegal worker can just claim they were forced, how are inter-Pack labor contracts supposed to function?”
I set the brass tag marked *17* on the conference table.
“Does a fingerprint taken from a drugged nine-year-old really count as consent?”
“A person’s identity cannot be defined solely by the people who control her.”
“At the very least, the person being taken away should be allowed to speak for herself.”
Elliot approved a trial run in the capital, Riverbend, and three other Packs.
Miriam took charge of training female Healers and trauma-informed recorders.
Nora, meanwhile, worked with investigators, using the Starlight Carnival’s ledger to identify other former members.
She had once stood by and watched as children were herded into warehouses.
Now, her willingness to name every location she knew was her penance.
Among the first group of girls to enter a recovery center was a twelve-year-old who refused to give a name.
The trafficking ring had called her Six.
Her last owner had called her Lucky.
She said it didn’t matter what name she chose; someone would just change it again.
I didn’t pick one for her.
I just left her a blank identity form.
“When you’ve decided, you write it down yourself.”
Half a month later, she found me.
On the paper were two shaky words.
“Sunny Reed.”
“Why that name?”
“The day I got out of the cargo hold was the first time I’d seen the sun in a year.”
I had the registrar enter the name into the system.
After she pressed the confirmation key, she kept asking if the people who’d owned her could take the record away.
“It’s yours.”
For the first time, she smiled.