She had been a prostitute for ten years, but one night, when she saw a terrified 19-year-old girl standing at her door, she refused to let a single client inside…
My name is Monica. When this story began, I was 38 years old, and for nearly ten years I had been living a life I never imagined for myself when I was younger.
My apartment was in one of the older parts of the city, on the second floor of an aging building with narrow stairs and a doorbell whose sound I had long gotten used to.
At night, men knocked on my door.
By morning, I was alone again.
And that was how the years passed.
I had convinced myself that there was very little left in life that could truly scare me.
Until that night.
It was around eleven o’clock.
I was waiting for my first client when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door.
