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the social worker, whoever she worked for, wanted to help her. In Ivy’s experience, no one helped anyone for nothing. But if the cops found out she was running a prostitution ring, they’d shut her down and put her in jail. No cop would care that she’d forbade the younger girls like Amy and Mina from turning tricks. If she went to jail, she’d never be able to rescue Sara, and she wasn’t going to risk her sister. Sara’s fourteenth birthday was only months away. Ivy could not—would not—let her down.
    “Get out of my face.” She tried to stand, but Jocelyn put her hand on her arm.
    “I’ve been where you are,” Jocelyn said quietly. “I got out when I was ready. I can get Amy out. Trust me.”
    “You don’t know me, and you don’t know Amy.”
    Jocelyn gave Ivy her card. “This is my cell phone. Call me when Amy’s ready, and I’ll take her home. That’s my job—I reunite families.”
    Ivy stared at the card. MARC. She glared at Jocelyn. “And what if their family is worse? Are you going to toss them back into the lion’s den like Daniel, except there’s no one to protect them?”
    God forgot about some of His people. Or He never cared in the first place.
    “If the family situation is unsafe, I have places for girls like Amy. But you know Amy’s mother isn’t a monster. If I didn’t believe that with all my heart, if I didn’t know in my gut that the house was safe, that her mother had forgiven all, I’d never return Amy.” Jocelyn paused. “You can come with me, check it out for yourself.”
    “Just—go. Please.”
    Jocelyn tapped the card Ivy held tight in her fist. “You’ll do the right thing.” She started walking away, then turned around and said, “I took care of Maddie’s bill. She’s going to be okay. I can even find a place for her.”
    “She’s twenty-one.” And that was what terrified Ivy. What about when these lost girls made it to adulthood? When there were fewer chances for help? Would there be a real future for any of them, when they were constantly chased by the past?
    “It doesn’t matter. We’ll call it a halfway house, for lack of a better name. She can go to college, find something she likes to support herself. You can too.”
    Ivy rolled her eyes. “I want to be left alone.”
    “No you don’t.”
    Then she walked away.
    *   *   *
    It had taken Ivy two weeks before she called Jocelyn, and it was after Amy had sneaked out to meet up with her new “boyfriend.” Ivy saw her falling into the same destructive patterns because Ivy couldn’t get her into school. She had no real authority over Amy; Amy knew Ivy would never kick her out of the house or turn her in to the police, so those threats never worked. A parent had to be willing to follow through. But Ivy wasn’t a parent. She was a twenty-year-old call girl who’d been on her own since she was Amy’s age.
    Jocelyn arranged a call with Amy’s mother, no strings attached.
    Her mother’s tearful emotion could be felt over the phone lines. “Amy, I love you so much. I miss you. Tyler misses you. Please come home. I’m sorry I didn’t see how much pain you were in when your dad died. I was selfish, thinking only I was grieving. That only I could miss him so much. I was wrong.”
    Two days later, Ivy let Jocelyn take Amy. She decided not to go with her. She didn’t want to, or need to. She’d heard the truth in the mother’s voice: Amy was both safe and loved.
    And that is all anyone, child or teen or adult, wanted.
    *   *   *
    Ivy checked on Maddie and Sara; they both were sleeping.
    She tried Kerry again, but there was still no answer. Why hadn’t Kerry checked in? Where had she gone? Why wasn’t she answering the phone?
    Ivy wanted someone to talk to, someone she could trust. Kerry, like Ivy, would do anything necessary to protect her sister. Maybe she’d ditched the phone, fearing it could be traced somehow. But wouldn’t she have let Ivy know that she’d picked up a new