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both out of the
    kitchen, a smile returned to his face, reanimating his somber features.

    Maya laughingly nudged Mark out of the kitchen and walked through the house with
    Mark close, his admiring glance taking in everything as they made it to her office.

    “I’ve never been inside Imani House but I have to complement you on the overall feeling.
    You’ve put a lot of hard work and time in, and it shows. How did this all take place?” They’d reached her office and Mark cast approving eyes around the office.

    Although files were scattered on the desk and her small trash could stand being emptied,
    the room reflected the same comforting feeling as the rest of the house. One large print featuring two little girls with curly hair in ponytails holding hands dominated one of the walls.

    An entire wall was a built-in bookshelf. From what he could see she had very eclectic
    taste. There was everything from scientific and medical books to popular best-selling works that he had read. Hanging from a corner wall was large lush fern. As he was settling back in his seat a knock sounded on her door.

    “Excuse me please, Mark. Come in,” Maya called out.

    Jorge brought in the promised lunch for the two of them. “Oh Jorge, thank you so much.
    It looks delicious.”

    With a smile he accepted the compliment. “Thank you, Dr. Maya. When you and the
    detective are finished, place the tray outside. I will pick it up.” He gave a timid smile in Mark’s direction before leaving her office.

    “I wanted to thank you for the way you handled the situation with Jorge in the kitchen.
    Jorge is the only male resident of Imani House.”

    “He was a prostitute?” Mark guessed.

    “Yes he’s a former prostitute. Jorge came to the U.S. as an illegal immigrant. He worked
    as a migrant farmhand, working seasonally, and moved often, trying to avoid the INS. He was approached by one of the other workers who told him he knew how to make more money
    without having to work sixteen hours a day. Once he started he couldn’t stop. The money was better than his migrant work, and he was afraid of his pimp. He was known on the streets for being cruel to the young boys who worked for him, and the men that he catered to were equally sadistic.”

    Mark knew that to be true. In his days as a uniform officer, he’d brought in more than his
    fare share of beat up young men from the streets.

    “Although he was afraid, he took the first step and came to me. He’s been with us ever
    since, and is now employed here.” Mark could hear the pride in her voice.

    “I can imagine how hard that was for him to take the first step. Most don’t.”

    “I know. In the time he’s been here, Jorge’s self-esteem has been restored. It’s been an
    emotional uphill process, but he’s getting there. Whenever we have a man enter the house, I introduce him to Jorge. When he sees the newcomer with me, it helps him to accept that he’s safe and the newcomer won’t hurt him.”

    After finishing his lunch, Mark set it aside to look across the room at the woman he was
    growing to admire with each passing moment in her company.

    She was such an amazing person, and he’d bet his last dime she didn’t see herself as
    special. Both her pride and commitment to her work were evident from the way she spoke. She cared for those under her care and it showed as she went out of her way to ensure their comfort and safety above all else.

    Mark became aware for the first time how long he’d been there when he glanced at his
    watch and recalled his reasons for the visit.

    “I admire what you’ve done here, Maya. I’d like to learn more about what you and your
    staff provide for the residents of Imani House when you have time. Have you found out anything more about Ally from any of your sources?”

    “I haven’t had the opportunity to find out where Ally had been staying before she was
    killed. Most of the women here are well connected with what’s going on in the