"Bitches are fighting over a pack of cigarettes. Got into a damn fistfight, and the cops picked them up. Had to bail their rank asses out of jail," explained Diesel, the one who looked out for them.

Rock strode over to the two girls, who were sitting on a mattress, still arguing. He snatched up a handful of hair from each of them and banged their heads together. "Where ya whores think you are? Disney World? You stupid bitches cost me money tonight. What do ya think? I pull bail money outta my ass? Get your fuckin' asses up and get back out on that street. Don't come back until you made enough money to pay me back for your mother fuckin' bail," he yelled.

The girls quickly forgot about the cigarettes and hurried out the door. Rock turned to Diesel. "Looks to me like you can't handle your shit. These sluts don't run you; you run them. If you can't handle this job, I'll give your girls to one of the other men who can," he threatened.

"I'm handlin' my shit, Rock. I can't help it they fightin' over a pack of smokes," Diesel said.

Rock punched Diesel in the face, and he flew backward into the wall. By then, the other men were all watching. "That's right. You can't stop them from fightin' over a pack of smokes. But when you get their dirty asses out of jail, you put them back on the streets to work off the bail money, after you beat them. You don't let them sit on their lard asses in this house and continue to argue. You got me?"

Diesel nodded, rubbing his jaw where Rock's fist had landed. "Yeah, I got ya."

Rock sat down with his men and explained what he was doing with Seth. "The kid is gonna run drops for me to my pushers. That way, they ain't spendin' all that time coming to my house to get more dope. They can use that time selling," he told them.

It had been Juju's idea. While she recognized that it was a bad thing for Seth to be doing, she also knew it would get Seth out of the house and away from Thelma. She feared that the child would die in her care if something didn't change. The bright side was that Seth and Maggie would be in contact with each other on the streets.

The next morning, Maggie arrived at Juju's apartment at nine o'clock, the same time she arrived every day. She sat at the kitchen table while Juju made them instant coffee. "So, I heard some shit on the street last night," Juju announced.

"What now? Someone out killing prostitutes? That would be my luck," Maggie responded sarcastically.

"Nope. I heard there's a little blond-haired boy riding around with Rock to deliver dope to his pushers," Juju stated victoriously.

Maggie jumped out of her chair. "Seth is out on the streets? Oh my God! That's awesome," she blurted.

Then, in the next moment, Maggie paused. "He's helping to sell drugs?" she asked, scared for Seth.

"Yep. But he's selling to the sellers, Maggie. People like me. Besides, Rock's driving him to each spot. It's not like he's walking Kensington Avenue," she said. "It was my idea. Thelma left him outside for three days. He got bad sunburn. Rock said his skin was blistered and peeling off his body. Rock put him in the basement with a bottle of lotion for a couple days. Said he wouldn't stop crying, and he thought Thelma was going to hurt him more. So, I came up with this idea. I know it ain't what you want him to be doing, but it's better than being left outside or starved to death. Sometimes we gotta do shit that ain't what we want to do. You know that better than anyone," Juju rationalized.

Maggie understood, and she knew that Juju had good intentions. She gave her friend a hug. "You're right. I don't want him involved with selling drugs, but it is better than dying at the hands of that beast. Man, I hate that bitch. I hope Thelma burns in hell. There's a whole bunch of people I hope will burn in hell someday," Maggie stated vehemently.

Then Maggie realized that she would more than likely see Seth on the streets. She got excited at the very thought of holding him even for a brief moment. She had mothered Seth for almost half of his life. Unbeknownst to Maggie, Seth would turn eight in another month.

As if Juju could read her mind, she asked, "When will Seth be eight?"

Maggie shoved her hands into the pockets of her skintight jeans. "I don't know. He was too young when they took him. He didn't remember anything."

"Well, then we have to make up a birthday for him," Juju said, hoping to lighten her friend's mood.

"Yeah." Maggie perked up. "That would be cool. We'll pick a date. Then every year we'll celebrate it with him."

"OK, what date?" Juju asked, enjoying the game.

"We need something easy for him to remember. How about December 3? Get it? One, two, three?"

"Yeah, that's so cool. I love it," Juju told her.

Then Maggie had another thought. "Why don't we head down to Needle Park?"

"Really? Why do you want to go there? I thought you didn't want to hang with those people-people like me, let me remind you," she teased.

"Because I want to get to know as many pushers as I can, 'cause if they know Seth's with me, then maybe they'll watch out for him. If they like me, then they'll keep an eye out for him, right? Isn't that the way it works?" Maggie asked in a sassy tone.

A huge grin spread across Juju's face. "Yep, that's how drug dealers fly. See, you're learning. We ain't like you damn streetwalkers who will eat each other alive to fuck some smelly old man," she quipped.

Hearing Juju call her a streetwalker made Maggie feel as if a dozen butterflies had suddenly hatched in her belly. Maggie was a smart girl. While she'd known the truth all along, to hear it coming from her only friend suddenly made it very real. "Yeah, but I didn't pick my career; it sorta picked me," she responded sadly.

"Come on, Maggie. I was only messing with ya. You're much more than some low-down, dirty tramp. You're smart, and someday you're gonna be something great," Juju told her, convinced there were good things in store for her friend.

"Do you really think so?" Maggie asked, wishing Juju had magic powers and could see into the future.

"Of course I do. You'll see. First, we gotta help Seth. Then we'll work on what we're gonna do. You know, like what we're gonna be when we grow up," Juju said with optimism.

For the first time since arriving in Kensington, a spark ignited in Maggie-a tiny flame of hope that one day she could see her family again and help Seth to find his family. She had the feeling that something good was about to happen. She clung to that feeling as if her life depended on it.

In fact, it probably did.

Chapter Sixty.

Over the next week, Rock and Seth nailed down the daily routine of delivering drugs. Rock saw his sales go up as a result and was pleased. Juju was happy on two levels: first, because Rock mentioned his increased sales to her; and second, because Seth was doing much better in his new situation.

Juju was one of Rock and Seth's regular stops. Rock parked on the street and told Seth to give the bag to the lady who would be waiting on the side of the house. When Seth rounded the corner, he saw Maggie waiting for him with Juju.

The boy ran to Maggie with open arms. Maggie lifted him into the air and quickly set him down. "You can't stay, Seth. You have to get back to the car fast. But I'll be here whenever you come by to bring something to Juju," she explained.

"Why can't I stay with you, Aggie?" he asked, his eyes filling with tears.

"Seth!" Maggie said sternly. "You can't cry. Rock will figure out you've seen me, and then we'll both be in big trouble. Come on now, you have to be brave and strong. Remember how brave Max was when John William would separate the girls from the boys? Remember how Max took care of you then?"

"Yes," he responded timidly.

"Well, that's exactly how you have to be right now," she stated. "Now go get back in the car and finish your work with Rock," Maggie told him, and gave him another quick hug.

Juju rubbed the top of his head. "See ya later, little man," she said with a big smile.

The two girls watched as Seth ran around the front of the building to Rock's car. As he slid into the passenger seat, Rock asked, "What took you so long?"

"I tripped when I was running over to the girl. I'm OK, though," Seth lied.

"Good. Next time, be more careful," Rock instructed.

Day after day, Seth delivered drugs to Rock's pushers. Doing this, he was able to see Maggie almost every other day. There was never time for talking; it was always a quick hug, a peck on the cheek, an "I love you," and off he would run. But it was a vast improvement over the life he'd had since school let out for the summer.

This new job for Seth helped to ease his troubles at home to a certain extent. Thelma still denied him of any kind of love or encouragement. Many nights, he slept out in the backyard, chained to the railing. He still had to endure her short temper and stinging slaps to the head, arms, and legs. But the one thing she could no longer deny him was food. Rock insisted that she feed him.

"The boy needs to be fed so he can run this shit, Thelma. So make sure he eats. And another thing: he needs to take a bath every day. Ain't nobody wantin' dope delivered by some foul-smelling kid," Rock demanded.

Thelma didn't like Rock telling her what to do. But he so rarely took a stand on her parenting that she honored his request and made sure Seth was fed and clean. Out of all of Thelma's cruelty, the verbal abuse was hardest for Seth to process. Bruises on the skin faded, but bruises on the heart and mind left scars that took a lot longer to heal.

Chapter Sixty-One.

On September 28, Maggie's fifteenth birthday, she finally faced her past head on. She started the day with her normal routine. She left the house of whores, stopped at Juju's for breakfast, and then walked to the library when it opened, so she could read for an hour.

For weeks leading up to that day, she contemplated going through old newspapers from the day she was taken. As much as she wanted to read about her own disappearance, she feared reliving the months that immediately followed her kidnapping. She worried that perhaps her parents had never looked for her, even though she knew that wouldn't be true. But after the things she'd done and all the time that had passed, she seriously doubted they could accept her back as the young woman she'd become.

On this morning, her birthday, she finally decided she'd take the plunge. As she looked through the local newspapers from August 3 of that year, she found nothing. Then it dawned on her that the story would have been published the day after she was taken. She pulled the local paper from August 4. On the front page, she looked into the eyes of the eleven-year-old girl she vaguely remembered. The young girl looked so happy. Maggie remembered the family party where the picture had been taken a month before her disappearance. But now, four years later, she barely recognized herself.

She stared at the photo of Maggie Clarke, wishing she could go back in time and take back all she'd lost. The girl looked so sweet and innocent. Maggie knew the picture showed a girl who was carefree and in love with her life. Then she shifted her eyes to the story, and the headline practically slapped her in the face. It read: GIRL, 11, KIDNAPPED FROM PLYMOUTH MEETING MALL.

Eleven-year-old Maggie Clarke disappeared on August 3 from the Plymouth Meeting Mall. The young girl was on her way to get a slice of pizza, her mother told reporters. "She was only gone for a couple of minutes. I don't know where she is. If anyone knows where our Maggie is, please call the police." Lorraine Clarke, the girl's mother, sobbed when interviewed outside her home early the next morning. Maggie Clarke is five feet tall and weighs eighty-two pounds. She has black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing denim jeans and a pale pink blouse at the time of her disappearance. She was last seen inside the food court at the Plymouth Meeting Mall. Anyone who has information should call the Plymouth Township Police Department.

Maggie hadn't noticed the stream of tears running down her face. She felt as though she was a third party to the information as she tried to absorb the article about herself. Maggie continued searching through other papers. Her picture had been plastered all over the front pages. Her mother and father were interviewed several times. Maggie didn't remember her parents looking as old as they did in the photos. The most troubling realization was that Maggie no longer felt attached or connected to them. Her heart broke as she stared mournfully at the two people who were once her parents: they were now strangers.

Maggie found articles written about her every few days for three weeks following her disappearance. She was saddened that each time an article appeared, it was hidden a little deeper in the paper. Finally, her disappearance was nothing more than a brief update that simply said that the search parties had ceased until more evidence turned up. She read all of the articles twice. The one common thread, aside from her parents, was a Detective Rae Harker. Judging from the picture in the paper, he looked like a large man-someone criminals wouldn't want to mess with-and Maggie wondered how long he looked for her and how much he knew about her.

Looking back, Maggie felt downright stupid. She had lost her life trying to impress a bunch of snot-nosed classmates who excluded her from their lame little group. She would give anything to reverse time. The gnawing grip of regret settled into her bones, and a veil of darkness fell over her.

Maggie quickly left the library. By the time she found Juju in an alley off Kensington Avenue, she was practically hysterical. Her sobs came in loud, gut-wrenching waves. Juju was alarmed, thinking that something horrible had happened to Seth.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Juju asked.

"My mom and dad looked for me, Juju. They looked for me and never found me. I should have never left my mom. I should have stayed with her and my brother at the mall," she sobbed.

Juju didn't know how to respond. Then it came to her. "That means they still want you. Right?"

"No! Why would anyone want me? Look at me. Look at what I've become!" she yelled, gesturing to her short shorts and the low, plunging neckline of her shirt that revealed her boobs.

"You didn't become a hooker, Maggie. They made you one. This isn't your fault, and I'm sure if you called them, they would want you to come home."

"Did you forget what they did to Cali because she was going to call my parents? They drowned her to death. They put her in a cage and drowned her. Rock would kill them or me. He would tell John William or Myles, and they would destroy my entire family," she wailed.

Juju understood the evil Rock was capable of when someone stole a twenty-dollar bag of dope. She considered Maggie's fear and realized that her friend was probably right. She'd watched Rock slice a man's thumb off for stealing from him.

"I think you're right, Maggie. I know you love your family, and Rock can be ruthless. For now, you need to go on living. But someday, I bet anything you'll be home with your family again," Juju offered.

"I wish I could believe you. I hope you're right, Juju."

As the girls parted, Maggie headed toward the center of Kensington in her Daisy Dukes and a padded bra. She looked down at the four-inch heals she was wearing. The faux leather was worn and chipped, the sides of the shoes were cracking, and all of it repulsed her.

Chapter Sixty-Two.

Rob and Keith Clarke sat at the dinner table after the dishes were cleared. Finally, Lorraine walked over to them carrying a small cake with four candles, one candle for each year Maggie had been missing. Rob sighed heavily as he gave his thoughts over to the daughter he missed and loved so dearly.

Each year on Maggie's birthday, Lorraine served a cake. They never sang happy birthday; it was a time for the three to remember what they'd lost.

"Happy birthday, baby," Lorraine said, before cutting into the cake.

Keith, Maggie's brother, now eight years old, looked to his father. Then he turned back to his mother, whose head was bowed as if she was in deep prayer.

"Mommy, why do we have a cake for Maggie when she isn't here anymore?" Keith asked.

"Well, because it's important that we never forget her, son. You two loved each other very much. She was a great sister to you," Lorraine reminded him again.

"Yeah, you tell me that all the time. But I don't remember her. Sometimes I wish she was never here 'cause you always talk about her and not me." He sniffled, feeling overshadowed by a ghost he'd long forgotten.

"Don't say that, Keith! I wish every day that she was here with us. And you know, just because we love Maggie doesn't mean we love you any less. We love you both the same," Lorraine reassured him.

"Keith," Rob said somberly, "it's just that Mom and I had two great kids. But one of them went away, and when you have kids, you love them like no one else in the world."

As soon as the Clarkes finished eating their cake, Keith ran off to his bedroom. Lorraine and Rob sat together silently, each of them alone with haunting memories of Maggie.

"How is it possible that I can miss her more as time goes on?" Lorraine asked Rob.

"I know, sweetheart. I know exactly how you feel. For me, it's because I think about the things she'd be doing as each year passes. High school, dances, parties..." He paused, dreaming of what could have been, what should have been. "We would be starting to think about college. It's overwhelming, and it's the worst burden any human being can carry through life."

Lorraine broke down and cried. Rob stood slowly and pulled Lorraine to her feet. The Clarkes stood in the kitchen, holding onto each other, both wishing they could be hugging their child.

"I still think she's alive," Lorraine said, breaking the silence.

"I don't know, Lorraine. Sometimes I let myself think so, too. But then I worry that if she is still alive, she is being tortured. I don't know which is worse for me: the permanence of death or the prolonging of the agony. It slashes my heart to shreds to think about either," Rob said with raw sadness.

"I know. Rae Harker told me that when he found out his daughter had been killed, relief and devastation overwhelmed him. He said they were the two hardest emotions he's ever had to deal with at the same time. I think you're right, Rob; it's this internal conflict. I don't want her to be alive and suffering, yet another part of me, a selfish part, wants her to come back no matter what has happened to her. It makes me feel like a horrible mother," Lorraine cried.

"You're not a horrible mother, Lorraine. You're human, and you're a great mother," Rob said, rubbing her back.

At eight o'clock that evening, Rae Harker rang the Clarkes' doorbell. Rae visited them at least two times a year, without fail: on Maggie's birthday and on the date she disappeared.