“Mrs. Patterson,” Macy said. Her voice was flat. Dead. “She’s been doing it for years. Takes the troublemakers. The ones nobody cares about. The runaways. Sells us to truckers. To men with vans. To whoever has cash.”
“The police—”
“Won’t believe me. I’m a foster kid with a drug problem. She’s a respected child care professional. Who do you think they’ll believe?”Continue reading…
