16
Behind The Door
As I opened the door, I saw a claustrophobic space lit by a buzzing tube light. It doubled as both a store room and a toilet, with a latrine in the far corner, where two large men with stomachs bigger than their sweated-into shirts held a teenage girl upside down over the bowl. She was rib-thin inside a pair of denim cut-offs and a baggy red vest; one battered white sandal on the floor. Another hanging off a big toe, as she fought to free herself.
“Tell us where the money is,” said one of the guys, dressed in a dark-blue, short-sleeved shirt, more gorilla than man.
He held a shotgun to the girl’s face as she cried.
“There isn’t any,” the girl said.
“We know your dad made money from the deal,” said the other man. He was six-two tall and dressed in an orange pattern
