Norris Moore dashed out only to freeze at the sight before her.
She didn't know where the man had taken her.
But all she saw around her were shacks, just like the one she'd come from—dilapidated and densely packed, exuding an air of age and poverty under the fierce sunlight.
She knew she wasn't in her home country, but this place wasn't the United Kingdom or the United States, either. The people walking the streets were a mix of Black, Latino, and occasionally white individuals, but each one of them had a dangerous look and aura, just like the man who had brought her here.
When a few tall men with brown skin lounging on the street turned their heads to see her emerge from the house, they sized her up while speaking in a language she couldn't understand. Their eyes and expressions appeared to harbor ill intentions.
