Trafficked by Kim Purcell

hands with warm washcloths. And then–” Lillian hesitated, licking her lips, as if she was uncertain about whether to go on.
    Hannah was ready to vomit. She’d heard men sniffed girls’ underwear in Japan and did all kinds of weird things.
    Lillian continued, “She put a chocolate on my pillow.”
    Hannah waited for more, but when Lillian didn’t continue, she said, “I don’t understand.”
    â€œA chocolate.” Lillian strode to her long dresser, pulled open the top drawer, and took out a box of wrapped truffles. “I want you to put one of these on my pillow after you make my bed each day. Just one. And hide the box somewhere.”
    Only a chocolate.
    â€œUnder no circumstances do I want you to tell me where you’ve hidden the box.”
    â€œI can’t hide it from you.”
    â€œI insist. I will thank you later, believe me.”
    â€œWhat if you’re hungry, and you eat your chocolate before you go to bed?”
    â€œThat’s too bad for me, isn’t it?” Lillian flashed Hannah her pale yellow smile. “That’s all I get. Just one.”
    Hannah could see some problems with this situation, but at least she didn’t have to wash Lillian’s hands with warm washcloths. Then she’d really feel like a servant. Lillian had listed so many cleaning jobs that Hannah had no idea how she’d have time to babysit. Olga had told her that most of the time she’d be babysitting and she’d do some light cleaning. But it looked like the opposite was true.
    Later, Hannah was scrubbing the bathtub in the bathroom off Sergey and Lillian’s room, her fingers all wrinkled and raw, when she heard Sergey drop on the bed with a loud groan.
    She thought he might start undressing, so she called out, “I’m in here.”
    The bed creaked again as he stood up and walked to the bathroom. “Yes?”
    She glanced back at him standing in the doorway. “I just wanted to warn you.”
    â€œWhy? Are you going to beat me?” He grinned.
    Hannah looked at him in confusion and then realized he was flirting with her. Katya would say something sassy back, but Hannah felt embarrassed and didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. What was he looking at anyway? She was wearing the baggy gray sweat suit, possibly the most unflattering clothing known to mankind.
    He cleared his throat and seemed embarrassed. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. “Lillian has put you to work already?”
    â€œYes.” Hannah continued scrubbing, remembering that she wasn’t even supposed to look at him. But if Lillian thought she was going to stare at the floor, she was out of her mind.
    He didn’t leave. She could smell his sports deodorant right behind her. He was still watching her. Maybe he was looking at the strap on the back of her pouch. The sweatpants were a bit loose. She touched the back of her sweatshirt. The strap was covered, but what if he’d seen her check? She had to find a place to hide the documents, a place where no one would look.
    â€œSergey!” Lillian said.
    Hannah stiffened.
    â€œWhat?” he said, stepping away.
    â€œLet the girl clean,” Lillian said, her slippers slapping across the hardwood floor. She appeared in the doorway and stared down at Hannah as if it was her fault. “Why do you have so much soap? And why are you using the sponge? I said to use the scrub brush.”
    Hannah stood up, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her soapy hand. The sweat suit was too hot. “I guess I forgot. There are so many things.”
    â€œYou’ve only done the upstairs. You need to work faster than that or you’ll be up all night.” Lillian turned and stalked out of the room.
    Hannah cleaned all day. At night, after Michael’s bath, she was picking up the bath toys, which he’d thrown around the downstairs bathroom, when a burst of male laughter