The thunderstorm outside continued to rage with fierce intensity. Lightning flashed through the window but was quickly softened by the glow of the crackling fire in the hearth. I asked her if she wanted water, and she shook her head.
After a while, she finished the food in her hands and curled up on the bed in the corner, her eyes fixed intently on me. Sensing that she was beginning to adjust, I tried speaking to her again and asked her name. Her earlier fear and wariness seemed to ease, and she finally began to speak.
"My name is Luya. I have three younger brothers. My mother told me you're a good man and that I should come to you, no matter what you might do to me." As she spoke, Luya began to cry.
I told her, "Don't cry. I won't do anything to you. At dawn, you can go home." But she shook her head as she sobbed, whispering, "I can't go home. If Mr. Horse doesn't want me, my mother won't either."
Hearing her plea, I realized her mother had been telling the truth. A woman as poor as her mother couldn't afford to keep an older child like her. I said, "In seven days, I'll set sail. I can't take you in. You need to go home tomorrow morning."
Upon hearing this, she began crying again, pleading, "Mr. Horse, take me with you. If you don't, I'll have no choice but to throw myself into the sea." Her desperation pained me, but I remained firm. "No. I'm going to the Crozet Islands in southeastern Africa. The journey is long and dangerous. If we encounter pirates, you'd be in great peril. Besides, the ship is full of men from different countries. For a girl like you, that's a serious risk."
"But I'm still a child," she said, her voice trembling. "You saw my body earlier. I'm not appealing to men."
I almost laughed but restrained myself and explained, "It doesn't matter. To them, there's no distinction between children and adults. If you're a woman, they won't hold back. To them, you're like a living fish—they might take a bite, slash it, and toss it back into the sea. If they think they can enjoy themselves for a moment, they won't care about the consequences for someone weaker."
My words seemed to scare her into silence, and we both fell quiet. The darkness outside had lightened slightly, but the rain and thunder persisted. I began to feel drowsy and said to her, "I want to sleep."
She flinched at my words, her tired face suddenly alert. Tentatively, she asked, "Do you want me with you?" I shook my head. "You can sleep downstairs, or you can share the bed with me. It's small, and it's the only one."
Quickly, she curled herself into a tighter ball, pressing into the corner of the bed, signaling for me to lie down.
I lay down, feeling the tension leave my body. I closed my eyes, letting sleep take over. Her damp warmth nearby hastened my descent into slumber.
When I awoke, it was nearly noon. Bright, scorching sunlight streamed through the window, stinging my neck.
I realized that the night's rain must have mostly evaporated under the blazing sun. At some point, the girl had fallen asleep beside me. Her soft, damp hair spilled across the pillow, its scent faintly tinged with last night's rain.
Her slightly parted lips had left a small pool of drool, carrying the faint aroma of bread and salted meat. She looked peaceful and innocent, and for the first time in five years, I woke up in this attic feeling a peculiar sense of warmth.
I left some money on the table, twice as much as I'd given her mother last time. On a slip of paper, I drew a symbol indicating that she should go home.
With everything arranged, I put on my coat and went to the tavern for a drink. While there, I asked the owner if the ship *Sino* would dock at Sihanoukville Port on schedule.
I drank late into the night before returning to the attic. When I opened the door, I froze. The girl hadn't left. She stood completely naked in the basin by the fireplace, washing herself.
Startled by my sudden appearance, she let out a cry and quickly crouched into the basin, wrapping her arms tightly around her barely formed chest. Her wide, fearful eyes fixed on me.
I ignored her, closed the door, and stumbled to the bed, the alcohol clouding my mind. Feeling dizzy, I said, "Bring me a wet towel. My head hurts." Then I collapsed onto the bed, closing my eyes, trying to sleep.
I heard the sound of water splashing as she stepped out of the basin, followed by more splashing. Just as I was about to drift off, a pair of cold, small hands briefly touched my forehead, then quickly withdrew. A moment later, she pressed a damp towel against my feverish skin. The pain in my head eased, and the light dizziness lulled me into a deep sleep.