Saving Stella

The monstrous waves crashed against the warm sand and made the sea foam tickle my bare feet as the sun blistered my cheeks. I had never been to the beach before and for the first time in my life, I felt joy. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and savored every second of the salty air as it entered my lungs. A smile grew across my lips and several tears rolled down my sunburnt face as laughter from young children filled the air.

We had escaped from unthinkable terrors from our own father, but after four days of traveling, we had made it. What more could we possibly ask for? Ozzy, my adopted sister, pulled her beach chair close to mine. I had never noticed how beautiful she was before. She had just turned eighteen and her light ebony skin was glowing in the sunlight as her hair flowed around her face, but her dark brown eyes still hid secrets and the pain of our past. We smiled and giggled at each other as we watched the waves rise and fall.

Stella Ray, our other adopted sister, was frolicking in the ocean like a giddy little girl. She was seventeen like me. Her olive completion grew darker with each passing moment and her brown hair was getting wavy from the salt water. Stella was a small girl anyway, but she seemed tiny compared to the vast ocean that surrounded her. She was in a blissful state at that moment and all I could do was watch in awe as her free spirit was finally enjoying life. While we all had a terrible upbringing, hers was a hundred times worse because she was the definition of a spitfire. No matter how many times our father tried to break her, she always fought back. She was the driving force for our great escape and I will always admire her for not backing down.

As I closed my eyes again, I got lost in the sound of the roaring water. I remember thinking, "We are here, safe together. It's only us now." What a sigh of relief. What a great memory that day is.

Just then, a shrill cry for help pierced the air. It was Stella. I could hear her screaming over and over to save her, but my eyes wouldn't open. I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear.

"Nova," I heard as something shook my shoulder, "Nova, it's time to go. You're freezing."

Slowly my eyes opened and I was no longer at the beach. Suddenly I was standing in the middle of a graveyard with rain pelting me from every angle. I glanced down and my black dress was completely stuck to my body while my black boots were sinking in the red clay mud.

I still didn't understand what was happening. Ozzy walked in front of me. I could tell she was soaked, too. Her hair was matted to her face and her eyes were red and puffy.

"It's time to go, Nova," she said calmly, "Let's go get in the car and get something hot to eat."

As I began to turn towards the car, I noticed a gravestone with the words AGENT STELLA RAY BROOKS written on it with the dates being 06/10/1993-10/05/2018.

Everything hit me at once. "She's really gone, isn't she?" I mumbled.

"Yes," Ozzy slowly answered.

"He found her," I began, "She's dead."

Ozzy dropped her head and said, "I know what you're going to say. And you're right. It's time to end this for good. Dad has ruined our lives since the moment that we all sat foot in his house. The disgusting perverted men he allowed to violate us in that club. The beatings we took for not doing what was asked of us. Getting locked in a basement and chained to a wall. And now, he has killed Stella. No doubt because he found out she was working with the FBI to try to bust his business. It's time to help bring down that ring for good. We can save the children that are in the same position because of him. We have to finish what Stella started. If we don’t, we will be next."

I agreed and we began trudging toward the car. On the ride home we discussed what we needed to do to assist in bringing our father to justice for the murder of Stella. She was an FBI agent so we already knew her case was their top priority.

“I think we should go to Stella’s apartment and start cleaning it out tomorrow. I’m not sure if the FBI will clean it out or not, but I know Stella and she probably left some information for us about dad,” I stated as Ozzy was sipping tea.

“Maybe, but don’t you think the FBI would have found them already?” she questioned.

“Possibly, but Stella was always clever and I’m sure there’s something somewhere she wants us to find.”

After a few minutes of debate, we decided to head to Stella’s apartment three hours away. Ozzy and I packed a small suitcase and loaded them in them in the trunk of my silver Civic. Before we left, I ran back to the mailboxes and grabbed all the letters and stashed them in the glovebox without even looking at them.

“It’s all just bills,” I told myself.

Within thirty minutes we had filled up the gas tank, gotten a quick bit to eat, and began speeding down the interstate. As we ate our burgers, I noticed the restaurant did not put any napkins in our bag so I asked Ozzy to hand me some out of the glovebox. She rummaged around inside the tiny compartment for a few seconds and suddenly stopped. She slowly pulled out a small manila envelope that had been stuck in between two other letters. Her eyes were bugging out of her head.

“Did you see this?” she asked frantically.

“I didn’t look in any of the mail yet.” I answered as I looked over curiously.

“It’s a package from Stella.”

I quickly pulled off on the next exit and came to a screeching halt in a rundown gas station parking lot.

“Open it!” I yelled at Ozzy.

I could tell her hands were shaking as she peeled the tab open and pulled out a little leather black book with a hand written letter taped to the front of it. I ripped the letter off and began reading aloud,

“Dear Girls,

I know you are probably racing to help get dirt on dad, but you don’t have to. I want you to know how much I love you. Both of you are the strongest people I have ever met and I hope you continue to be after my death. I am writing this letter to let you know that I’ve got him. I have enough evidence to put dear dad in prison forever. The horrors go deeper than we ever imagined. Including my murder.

Dad hired a new maid last month who was actually my partner and an undercover officer. She was able to plant various listening devices around the mansion including his private office. She was also smooth enough to gain access to his personal files like his client list and his bank accounts for his “business.” She confirmed that he has even hired a hitman to kill me. It’s already in motion so I know I will be dead soon and that’s okay. I can die knowing that after a long, exhausting investigation, we got him. You will probably be hearing about his arrest in the following weeks.

The black notebook I have sent to you is only a partial client list. All the men listed have engaged in trafficking in some way. Some are “owners” of the slaves and others have actually participated in abuse. I am giving you this because I want you to do me a favor. Please take the book to the local news station and give it to Jane Becker. She is expecting it and she will be doing a story exposing the men and women listed since most of them are high-status citizens, including our former senator. It’s time for the world to know how millions of people across each country are suffering each and every day like we did. I don’t even have a count of how many men, women, and children we have saved just in the last three years, but there’s always more. We owe it to all of them to stop these monsters from hurting any innocent people.

Lastly, remember how I said my partner even found dad’s “business” bank accounts? Well ladies, I have drained those accounts of every last dollar and donated a majority of it to a charity that helps rehabilitate victims of trafficking. This was probably why he decided to kill me. I also left $20,000 to each of you in an untraceable account. The account numbers and instructions on how to get the funds are listed on the last page of the black book. I want you both to enjoy the life we never got to have. Just don’t tell anybody you got the money from me.

I love you both beyond words and I want you to know that I am peace now. Live your lives to the fullest and do not worry, I will be your guardian angel.

Love, Stella Ray

P.S. Don’t go to my apartment because there will not be anything left after the FBI cleans it out. They will send you some of my personal belongings when the murder investigation is closed.”

Ozzy and I were sniffling at the end of the letter. I’m sure it was a combination of happiness and heartbreak. Once my eyes stopped tearing up, I put the car in drive and headed to the news station and handed over the book to Ms. Becker after ripping the back page out. She told us to be on the lookout for the headline in the next day or two. We shook hands and headed back home.

We didn’t speak much again until we got to the apartment and turned on the television.

“Ozzy!” I screamed, “It’s dad! He’s already been arrested and Jane Becker has just released the names of all the people in that book! Look at the headline!”

“800 men, women, and children saved from local trafficking ring leader,” flashed across the bottom of the screen.

Ozzy and I busted out in tears again for the hundredth time. We did not know any other way of dealing with the overwhelming emotion flooding us. At least out of all the hurt we have faced, we got to see him go to prison along with hundreds of other vicious monsters.

With the substantial amount of money Stella had given us, we decided to start our own nonprofit organization in honor of her called “Saving Stella.” Now, fifteen years later, we have saved and given a home to over ten thousand people who were victims of trafficking or abuse. Hopefully we can continue to spread awareness across the world and bring peace to those who are suffering.