What should have been a lovely family vacation 7 years ago became a mother’s nightmare.
Her husband and daughter abruptly disappeared while on a cruise ship.
What happened that day for years, but eventually hope waned because no fresh leads or suspects surfaced.
Years later, however, the mother happened to go down an alley in a farway city and what she saw there would alter everything.
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Morning sun which created lengthy shadows on the aged wooden floor.
Clock on the mantle ticked away.
News that Catherine Wilson had been dreading for seven long years.
She sat in her living room staring at him was a mix of resignation and sympathy as he said on Mrs.
Wilson inform you that we must now talk about the future of your husbands and daughters case.
weight of her family’s absence was carved into the creases of her face, and at 46 she had aged beyond her years, hands firmly clutched in her lap, she leaned forward.
“You mean?” Question was hardly audible above a whisper.
“Gro Holloway combed over his graying hair.
” “Mrs.
Wilson, it’s been 7 years.
Pursued every avenue and exhausted every lead.
Case is getting cold.
” She gave a fierce shake of her head.
“Give up, detective.
Please, out there, currently 25, been posting posters online and on the street, and she could notice one of them, unable to look away.
Gaze shifted to the family portraits that covered the walls, their joyful faces a sharp contrast to the somber mood that filled the space.
Your perseverance, but you must comprehend our stance, received innumerable spam calls and misleading leads throughout the years.
Each one detracts from other ongoing cases and requires time and resources to investigate.
coffee table where an open thick folder containing reports and old evidence was lying.
Her fingers brushed the tattered edges of the papers as she extended her hand.
Of this work cannot be wasted.
Solemn expression Holloway reclined in his chair.
You repeat for me what transpired that day? Specifics might occasionally yield fresh perspectives and nodded narrative innumerable times to reporters, police, well-meaning neighbors, and friends.
Hope that one day in some way it would lead to answers.
Even though each recounting seemed like reliving the nightmare.
Caribbean cruise, she said, recalling the events of that fateful day in a distant voice.
Spent years preparing what was intended to be a fantastic family trip.
The memory, her eyes going blank.
Ghost of that final joyful day seemed to haunt the room with the sound of seagulls and scent of salt air of our journey through the Dutch Caribbean.
We had stopped in Kiraasau, little cafe by the port.
The cobblestone street was lined with tables that around us.
It seemed like something from a postcard.
Catherine went on, her voice cracking a little.
We believed it would be safe for Clare, who was 18, to go for a quick walk by herself.
How could we have known that there were people everywhere and that the sun was shining? With a supportive nod, Holloway took notes while Catherine talked.
The sound of his pens scratching on the paper was abnormally loud in the otherwise silent room.
About 15 minutes had gone by the time we finished our beverages, and we were prepared to move on.
While I paid the cashier, Daniel promised to search for Clare.
She hadn’t returned yet.
As I saw him leave the cafe, I thought he was attempting to reach Clare, but Daniel never returned.
Up until the evening, I looked for them around the market area and along the shore.
My last sighting of him had been 2 or 3 hours prior to the ship’s scheduled departure.
Of them, but neither of them answered.
I informed the cruise security when I saw they were both gone.
Catherine remembered the panic of that moment and her hands shook.
They questioned passengers and searched the ship, but neither Clare nor Daniel were found, though they had just disappeared.
Management of the crew instructed me to join the ship so that we could carry on our conversation inside.
Was afraid of abandoning them on the island, but they assured me they would get in touch with the Corissaw authorities.
Information, his brow wrinkled.
Made things more difficult.
response took longer than necessary because the ship was in international seas and the disappearance happened on a foreign island briefcase.
He produced a clean official looking document.
Years we have maintained regular communication with Interpol and the Dutch authorities.
Information about Clare and Daniel has been marked as high priority in Interpol’s database.
Glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Catherine leaned forward looking for it, selecting his words.
I must tell you the truth, Mrs.
Wilson.
The case has been depprioritized by Amsterdam Interpol.
Come here to tell you this.
Moved elsewhere in the absence of fresh leads.
Year that goes by, cases like these get harder to solve.
Information becomes available.
They will notify us.
Completely gone.
The hope in Catherine’s eyes waned.
Her voice, she straightened her back.
Do whatever it takes to pay more for the investigation, she stated.
Let the case go unsolved, please.
Gentle shake of his head.
Holloway’s face softened with pity.
Not about money, family if they don’t actively seek for them.
We’ve tried everything we can, but we have to prioritize our resources.
Voice in exasperation.
Struggled to keep started to crumble, revealing the unadulterated agony underneath.
In a gesture that seemed to mark the end of their meeting, and the passing of yet another glimmer of hope, the investigator stood gathering his documents.
I assure you, Mrs.
Wilson that my team here in Orlando will continue to monitor the case, even though Interpol in Amsterdam has downgraded its priority.
We’ll follow up right away if someone comes forward with information.
I’ll keep looking for it for another year.
The unpleasant reality, however, remained unsaid as he trailed off.
Holloway turned back to Catherine, his face softening as he got ready to go.
Mrs.
Wilson, keep going.
We’re exerting every effort.
Don’t lose hope just yet.
The investigator excused himself with those last words, leaving Catherine sitting there with the shattered remains of her family and the dwindling hope that they would return.
A constant reminder of the time that had gone by and the uncertain future that awaited, the clock on the mantle kept ticking.
Catherine sat still on the couch, staring at the pile of missing person posters beside her printer as Detective Holloway walked out the front door, with their grins serving as a stinging reminder of better times past.
Clare and Daniel’s faces gazed back at her.
Frozen in time, Catherine inhaled deeply before forcing herself to stand up.
She collected the posters, slipped them into a big manila package, and went to the printer.
It was a routine that was nearly familiar and reassuring.
Over the years, how many times had she done this? She hung how many posters? To what extent has she told her story to strangers? She picked up her phone and bag, stopping only to look at her image in the hallway mirror.
The woman who was staring back at her was worn out from years of sadness and uncertainty.
Her once golden hair was stained with gray, and the corners of her mouth and eyes were wrinkled.
The humidity was already starting to rise when Catherine stepped outside into the warm Florida morning.
The familiar leather seats of her automobile were not very comfortable as she got in.
As she got comfortable, she couldn’t help but notice the picture hidden in the sun visor.
It was a picture of a more carefree time showing her, Clare, and Daniel on the cruise ship’s deck.
their faces glowing with anticipation for the journey ahead.
Catherine had a whirlpool of emotions upon seeing the picture.
Like a tidal wave, anger, anguish, and a deep sense of loss swept over her.
Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles widened as she fought to keep the chaos inside under control.
The dam suddenly burst.
Catherine hammered her fists into the driving wheel, letting out a wild scream.
Years of suppressed pain poured out in a torrent of unfiltered emotion as tears fell down her cheeks.
“Why?” Her voice was weak and horsearo as she sobbed.
Why was that [ __ ] cruise required of us? We ought to have remained at home.
We ought to have been secure.
Catherine collapsed for a few minutes, letting the anguish she had suppressed for so long overwhelm her.
Once a representation of excitement and family time, the cruise ship had now become the object of her regret and anger.
Her family would still be together if they had stayed at home and taken a different vacation.
Catherine wiped her eyes and took long trembling breaths to try to restore her calm as the emotional storm subsided.
Still full of emotion, she whispered to herself, “At get it together, Catherine, you must be strong for them.
” She took out her phone with shaking hands and set the GPS to Tampa.
The travel took roughly an hour, but she might benefit from a change of scenery.
In addition, she hadn’t updated the posters she had previously shown there in a long time.
The likelihood that someone would recognize Daniel or Clare would only rise if she renewed her search there.
Catherine was about to reverse out of her driveway when her phone rang, breaking the tenuous silence she had managed to restore.
She paused before answering the phone, which was connected to her car’s Bluetooth system.
“Hi there.
” Her voice was still a little horse from sobbing when she spoke.
“Is this Wilson, Catherine?” With a decidedly European accent, a woman’s voice inquired.
Despite her emotional fatigue, Catherine’s interest reached a crescendo when she said, “Woo, yes, this is she.
I think I may have seen your daughter Clare here in Amsterdam, which is why I’m phoning Mrs.
Wilson.
” The combination of skepticism and optimism flooded Catherine’s system, causing her heart to skip a beat.
Over the years, she had gotten several calls similar to this one, each promising a lead, only to end in disappointment, or worse, attempts to defraud her of her money.
I’m sorry, but I don’t have time or energy for jokes right now, Catherine stated in a tired and reserved tone with her finger hovering over the disconnect button.
She attempted to end the connection, but the woman’s voice interrupted her again, this time with greater adamance.
Please give me a moment of your time, Mrs.
Wilson.
I’m not pursuing your money.
Despite her better judgment, Catherine found herself wanting to hear more because of something in the woman’s tone.
She hesitantly replied, “All right, I’m listening, but this better not be a prank call.
” Before continuing, the woman on the other end of the line inhaled deeply.
“The name Sophia Van Djk is mine.
I spent 6 years working as an expat in Orlando.
6 months ago, I completed my project and went back to Amsterdam.
” Catherine listened carefully as Sophia described how since the case originally went viral, she had seen the missing person posters innumerable times when she was in Orlando.
She could still clearly recall the description of Clare.
I knew it was Clare when I saw her.
Mrs.
Wilson, Sophia added, her voice full of confidence.
That smile, the golden hair, and those brilliant blue eyes all matched the posters I had seen so frequently.
As Catherine took in this information, her heart began to accelerate.
You saw her where? Barely daring to hope, she asked, Sophia responded that she was with a man in a pub here in Amsterdam.
Daniel was the first person Catherine thought of.
Was it conceivable that they had spent all this time in Amsterdam? Her optimism, however, was dashed when she asked Sophia to describe the man.
Sophia said he was younger and had more muscle.
Catherine’s mind was racing with possibilities and questions as she processed this knowledge.
Where was Daniel, if it was indeed Clare? In the last 7 years, what had become of them? Catherine was skeptical.
Yet she was unable to deny the hope that had grown within of her.
No matter how remote the possibility, she had to follow up on this lead.
“I need you to do something for me, Miss Van Djk,” Catherine murmured, her voice firm despite the shaking in her hands.
“Please go to the Amsterdam police station and report this if you are sincere about what you are stating.
Through Interpol, the local Orlando police are linked to the Amsterdam authorities.
If you report something, it will be noted and brought to their notice.
” Sophia’s answer was prompt and comforting.
I did mean what I said, Mrs.
Wilson.
I’m going straight to the police station.
Catherine found herself asking one last question as the call was coming to a close, her voice hardly audible above a whisper.
Do you know for sure what you saw? I’ll take a plane to Amsterdam today if you are.
After a little silence, Sophia answered in a kind and encouraging voice.
I’m approximately 90% certain yes, and do get in touch with me if you do choose to go.
I’d be pleased to assist you in any manner.
I can and we can arrange a meeting.
Catherine hung up the phone with a heart full of cautious hope and a heart full of gratitude.
She pondered the choice in front of her while sitting in her car with adrenaline pumping through her veins.
The part of her that had never given up on finding Clare and Daniel was already organizing the trip.
But another part of her wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
The thought of taking a plane halfway around the world based on a stranger’s phone call.
Catherine’s thoughts were racing with potential solutions as she shifted the vehicle into reverse.
She laughed quietly as she pictured the possibility of running into this generous woman in Amsterdam and accompanying her to Clare’s reunion.
However, uncertainty soon followed, reminding her of her previous setbacks.
3 years prior in Hawaii, someone had reported seeing Clare, and she recalled the experience.
In addition to heartache, that crazy pursuit had come to a stop when Catherine was robbed.
Catherine focused on the road ahead, shaking her head to chase away the gloomy thoughts.
Sophia, the caller, sounded much more genuine than the young Hawaiian man who had contacted her years before.
Sophia probably wasn’t lying if she actually told the Amsterdam police about this.
Catherine’s feelings were racing, but she understood that no one else would take this seriously if she didn’t.
She realized she had to give it everything she had because Orlando officials were only giving her case another year, and Interpol was downgrading its priority.
Catherine grabbed her phone again as she drove to the police station.
Her heart was racing as she dialed Detective Holloway’s number and waited for him to pick up.
Holloway the detective.
Catherine Wilson is this person.
Are you at the station? I’ll be there in 15 minutes with a new lead.
I’m on my way.
Yes, I’ll see you shortly.
Regards.
The tires of Catherine’s automobile crunched on the sunbaked tarmac as it drew into the Orlando Police Department parking lot.
As she collected her thoughts, she sat for a while with the engine running.
The burden of the previous seven years weighed heavily on her.
Yet, she was able to move forward because of the optimism that Sophia’s call had sparked.
Catherine took a deep breath and got out of her vehicle.
The humidity stuck to her skin as the Florida heat struck her like a wall.
The blast of air conditioning was a pleasant comfort when she entered the station.
She was welcomed by the smell of coffee and paper, which brought back memories of the many hours she had spent here over the years, following leads and hoping for answers.
A regular at the front desk, Officer Rodriguez, recognized her right away.
He smiled sympathetically at her, his eyes gentle but tinged with pity.
He whispered, “Mrs.
Wilson, you are anticipated by Detective Holloway.
You can go straight up.
” With a bow of gratitude, Catherine headed to Holloway’s office, her footfall reverberating in the corridor.
Every stride seemed burdensome, bearing the equal parts of fear and optimism.
Before knocking, she stopped before his door and took a moment to gather herself.
Holloway’s rough voice called from within.
“Come in,” Catherine walked in, finding it strangely comfortable to see the detective’s messy desk and the wall of case files behind him.
Holloway’s face was a mix of surprise and worry as he looked up from his computer.
“And you said you had a new lead, Mrs.
Wilson,” he continued, motioning for her to sit down.
“With her hands gripped tightly in her lap to conceal their quivering, Catherine took a seat across from him.
As she described the phone call from Sophia in the seclusion of his office, she saw Holloway’s face change from one of skepticism to cautious intrigue.
With a little shakiness in her voice from repressed emotion, Catherine said, “Unteed day woman in Amsterdam says she saw Clare at a bar.
She was surprised to see a slight smile curl Holloway’s lips.
” He leaned back in his chair and added, “Unbie already received a report from the Orlando Interpol Bureau.
His weight made the leather crack slightly.
They clarified that we have been informed of the situation and that the Amsterdam police had informed them.
The FBI has been notified as well.
” Catherine’s heart pounded and her eyes grew wide.
Sophia did in fact claim to have seen Clare.
Holloway turned to his computer and nodded.
The brief silence was broken by the gentle click of his mouse as he opened a file.
Clare was described in full in a report that was turned into the Amsterdam police by a woman named Sophia Van Djk.
The accusation has some credence because the name matches the woman who called you.
Catherine felt a wave of worry mixed with relief.
Her voice was hardly more than a whisper as she leaned forward in her chair.
Now what? When might we expect to hear from them once more? Holloway’s face became serious.
The area where Sophia claimed to have seen Clare is currently being searched by Amsterdam police.
But we must be realistic, Catherine, he said, pausing, his tone hard but compassionate.
International instances are far more complicated, even if this lead is real.
We have to deal with multiple time zones, regulations, and procedures, and the bureaucratic process is slower.
With her thoughts already racing, Catherine nodded.
However, we cannot afford to waste time if Clare is indeed present.
How about taking a plane to Amsterdam? I could speak with folks and assist with the search.
This woman claimed to be able to assist me.
Holloway’s eyes were filled with worry and his forehead furrowed.
Recall what transpired in Hawaii, Catherine.
I can’t honestly advise you to leave right now based just on this lead.
It is risky, and in all honesty, there is little chance that this is truly Clare.
A glimmer of frustration passed through Catherine.
Although she recognized Holloway’s hesitancy, her maternal instinct was urging her to take action.
My instinct tells me that this is different and that I can’t just sit here and do nothing, even if I am aware of the risks, detective.
With a groan, Holloway combed over his graying hair.
I know what you mean, Catherine, but just don’t do something extreme for your own safety.
Allow the Amsterdam police to carry out their duties.
As soon as we learn more, we’ll let you know.
In spite of Holloway’s cautions, Catherine stood, her choice already set.
She walked over to the door and stopped, her hand resting on the handle.
“Detective, thank you.
Thank you for all that you have done.
” Holloway cried out to her before she could get away.
“If you must do anything, Catherine, please stay at home or go hang those posters, but don’t act hastily.
Even for your own safety, it’s risky.
” Unconfident in her ability to talk, Catherine nodded.
The chilly air inside the station gave way to the stifling Florida afternoon heat as she walked out.
Plans were already rushing through her head as she got back into her car.
She took out her phone, searching for flights to Amsterdam with her fingers running quickly across the screen.
There was a tiny voice in the back of her head telling her that this was ridiculous and that based on a single phone call, she might be traveling halfway across the world to meet a stranger.
However, Catherine realized she had to take a chance when she discovered a flight departing in 3 hours.
She inhaled deeply before purchasing the ticket.
Then she dialed Sophia’s number once again while she was still seated in the police station parking lot.
Before Sophia’s slurred voice answered, the phone rang a few times.
Hi there.
Despite her own emotional turmoil, she said steadily, “Sophia, it’s Catherine Wilson.
I have a ticket to Amsterdam.
I’ll be there by 8:00.
” “Your time.
Is there a possibility that we may meet?” The other end of the line paused for a moment, and Catherine held her breath, suddenly fearing that Sophia would withdraw.
However, the woman’s kind and resolute voice then emerged.
“Of course, I’ll see you at the airport, Catherine.
The late hour shouldn’t be a concern.
This is too significant.
” Catherine felt a wave of relief.
Sophia, thank you.
How much this means to me is beyond words.
Catherine took a moment to gather herself before hanging up the phone.
Flying across the ocean to see a stranger who claimed to have seen her long- lost daughter at a pub made her acutely aware of how absurd this choice may appear to an outsider.
It sounded like the scenario of a suspense book, but it was much more bizarre than abandoning her family on a cruise without a trace.
Catherine got into her car and drove home with a new sense of purpose.
She just had a few hours to prepare her belongings and traveled to the airport.
Her thoughts were racing with potentialities as she drove.
What if Clare would actually return home because of this lead? Where was Daniel if it was Clare? After seven long years, what had become of them? Catherine ignored the questions that raced through her head.
She had to concentrate on the issue at hand right now.
Pack, get to the airport, take a plane to Amsterdam, locate Sophia, and maybe discover the answers she’s been looking for for seven grueling years.
Catherine looked again at the picture of her family in the sun visor as she turned into her driveway.
With a determined tone, she muttered, “I’m coming.
Hold just a minute.
I’ll be right over.
” For Catherine, the flight to Amsterdam was a haze of anxious expectation.
As the plane flew across the Atlantic, 9 hours passed interminably.
With each minute both racing and dragging, her dreams were a tangle of heartbreaking disappointments and hopeful reunions as she slept fitfully.
Catherine’s pulse pounded when the aircraft landed at Amsterdam.
Skipall Airport.
Outside the plane’s windows, the nighttime sky was already dark by 8:00 local time.
The strange Dutch announcements reverberated throughout the terminal as she navigated customs.
Catherine picked up her tiny luggage, which she had hurriedly packed without giving much consideration to what she might need.
All she could think about was the next meeting.
To make sure she could get through to Sophia, she stopped briefly at a kiosk to buy a prepaid phone plan.
Even at this late hour, there was a lot of bustle in the arrivals hall.
Catherine looked around, trying to find a face she had never seen before.
She took out her phone and tried calling Sophia, but the call was unsuccessful.
She frowned and gave it another go, wondering if the new SIM card was the problem.
Doubt started to seep in as the minutes passed.
With no sign of Sophia, had it all been an error, one more horrible prank.
Anxiety churned in Catherine’s stomach as her thoughts returned to the Hawaii episode.
A voice yelled out behind her just as she was ready to give up and go to the taxi bay area.
Wilson.
Catherine.
A woman was walking toward Catherine when she turned.
She had a nice smile and gentle eyes and seemed to be about Catherine’s age, maybe a few years older.
The woman held out her hand and introduced herself as Sophia Van Djk.
As Catherine took Sophia’s hand, a wave of relief passed over her.
Her voice was full with emotion as she continued, “Thank you so much for coming.
I was starting to think.
Sophia squeezed her hand comfortingly.
I apologize for being late.
Finding parking was a problem due to the traffic, but now that I’m here, we can work things out.
Sophia told Catherine about herself as they walked to her car in the basement parking lot.
Sophia, Catherine found out, was also a mother and had worked as an expat for 7 years in Orlando for a non-governmental organization that promoted the resilience of women and children.
She had returned to Amsterdam following the completion of the Orlando project.
I was separated from my husband and son here in Amsterdam,” Sophia stated as they got into her car when I was in Orlando.
“That was hard enough.
I would return to them twice a year for a weekend, which was really only a day due to the time difference before leaving for Orlando before Monday really started.
” She looked at Catherine, compassion shining in her eyes.
“Loing my family for 7 years is unthinkable.
” “Catherine, you are a really strong woman.
Where would you like to go first?” Sophia said as they drove into the city, the lights of Amsterdam glistening in the distance.
I’ve reserved a room for you at a little hotel close to the pub where I believe I saw Clare.
Catherine paused, caught between fatigue and the pressing necessity to begin the search right away.
She said slowly, “Oh, I know it’s late, but the time difference hasn’t made me feel tired at all.
Would it be possible for us to visit the bar right now?” Sophia nodded, her eyes full of comprehension.
Naturally, I want to assist you in any way I can, so don’t worry about me.
Even though it was late, the streets of the city were still bustling as they drove through it.
Catherine’s excitement increased as they got closer to the spot where Sophia had seen Clare.
It was only a short walk from the bar in question when the car stopped up outside a small apartment building.
“I’ve reserved your room here,” Sophia clarified.
Although it’s not opulent, it’s tidy and conveniently located near our destination.
They headed to the bar, leaving Catherine’s bags in the car.
With Amsterdam’s thriving night life in full swing, the streets were bustling with people.
Catherine’s heart was pounding in her chest as they got closer to the pub, and every step made her stomach turn with excitement.
The bar’s interior was darkly lit and buzzing with talk.
Catherine’s gaze flitted from person to person, looking for Clare.
Sophia escorted her to the bar where Catherine produced a picture of Clare, the same picture she had always kept in her car from her bag.
She showed the bartender the picture and said, “Oh, excuse me.
” Her voice quivering a little.
Have you recently seen this woman? After looking at the picture, the bartender shook his head.
“I apologize, but this girl has been the subject of police inquiries all day.
We have informed them that she has not been seen.
” Despite her disappointment, Catherine remained optimistic.
She saw that they were close to the red light district’s edge as they left the pub with the notorious neon glow of the neighborhood visible in the distance.
Sophia caressed Catherine’s arm tenderly after catching her eye.
Catherine, we should go to the police station first if we’re going to search that neighborhood.
It might help with the search if I can help identify you as Clare’s mother.
People in the red light district will not be amendable to us asking too many inquiries by ourselves and the area can be dangerous.
Catherine acknowledged Sophia’s wisdom with a nod.
They went back to the apartment to finish the check-in procedure and dropped down Catherine’s bags.
Catherine thanked Sophia for making the arrangements, but insisted on paying for her own accommodation.
After finishing that, they headed to the police station.
Catherine and Sophia strolled side by side in the cool evening air, surrounded by the bustle of Amsterdam’s lively streets.
Although it was only intended to take them 10 minutes to go to the police station, Sophia recommended that they take a shortcut through the red light district, which would cut the time in half.
Catherine hadn’t planned to go that route, but she consented because of the necessity of their goal.
The district seemed like a completely different universe as they navigated its winding streets filled with neon lights, the pulsing electronic beats of neighboring clubs, and the mingling of languages.
As they passed colorful windows that stood in sharp contrast to Catherine’s usual surroundings, people wandered around, apparently unconcerned with the mood.
Even though the street was crowded, the alleys they passed through seemed more sedate and remote.
Catherine was deep in contemplation, her pace increasing as she forced herself to ignore the nagging pain in the pit of her stomach.
She couldn’t get the district to stop feeling strange and uneasy.
Because she was preoccupied, Catherine was unaware that she was slowly lagging behind Sophia as she went.
She could feel the pulse of energy in the city, but she wasn’t fully there since her mind was racing with questions.
Did Clare actually show up? Is she secure? How has she been living her life? They might be on the verge of locating her.
Sophia suddenly stopped moving.
Being preoccupied with her own thoughts, Catherine failed to notice at first.
She didn’t stop and turn back until she heard Sophia scream out to her, at which point she realized she had gone several meters ahead.
Catherine, hello.
With a voice full of something Catherine couldn’t identify, Sophia cried for her return.
She turned swiftly, regretting not sticking closer, a sense of shame swelling in her chest.
Upon arriving at Sophia, she observed that her gaze was fixed on a window at the end of the lane.
“What’s happening?” Catherine asked, her expression bewildered.
Isn’t it the direction of the police station? However, Sophia’s eyes never left the window, and Catherine followed it with increasing interest.
There was a woman sitting on a bed in simple clothes behind the glass.
A cropped tank and torn short denim that are simple, almost plain.
Catherine’s heart skipped a beat when she blinked.
She had such a familiar appearance.
As she peered closer, her breath caught.
Sophia’s voice, firm but unsteady, cut through her thoughts.
It must be her.
She was with me earlier.
It’s the same woman.
Catherine squinted as she approached the window.
Her chest constricted as her eyes scanned every inch of the woman.
Her heartbeat accelerated.
The way she sat with a silent resignation, the lovely face, the blonde hair.
Clare was the one.
It must have been.
Catherine’s voice wavered as she replied, “This must be her.
This is my daughter, Clare.
” Without thinking, Catherine’s hands trembled as she stretched out and started frantically knocking on the glass.
As she attempted to get the woman to see her and comprehend, her heart raced.
The woman, however, didn’t appear to recognize her.
She just glanced back, her eyes bewildered.
With a worried expression on her face, Sophia glanced at Catherine, but she continued.
Each knock was louder than the last as her palm repeatedly pounded the glass.
Catherine’s voice cracked with desperation as she yelled, “Please, it’s Clare.
Please, it’s my daughter.
Can you hear me, sweetheart Clare?” The woman appeared more uneasy within the window, shifting in her bed and looking about anxiously.
The woman got up and appeared agitated when Catherine knocked again.
She turned and vanished from view without saying a word, moving with purpose and speed.
Shortly after, a big, muscular security guy with a stern, uncaring face came out of the brothel’s door.
He was imposing, almost a foot taller than Catherine, and the light behind him was obscured by his broad shoulders.
The security guy responded in a low but forceful voice.
“And you must leave.
Public disturbances are not permitted here,” Catherine felt her heart fall to her stomach.
She implored, her voice shaking with passion.
“Pincis, my daughter.
She’s missing Clare.
She has been absent for a very long time.
I’m sure she’s here.
I need your assistance, please.
” The security guy took a step closer, his hand already reaching for his radio, but he stayed motionless, his gaze icy.
With a more solemn tone, he threatened to call the police if you didn’t leave.
Catherine, however, was unwilling to give up the one advantage they had, and she maintained her ground with her hands baldled into fists.
Sophia intervened before the situation got out of hand.
She took out her phone, contacted the Amsterdam police, and swiftly explained the situation in Dutch.
Although Catherine could only hear fragments of the conversation, she knew Sophia was informing them of Clare’s whereabouts.
“Bent to Velvet Room,” Sophia told the officers, pointing up at the neon sign.
There was a glimmer of optimism, but Catherine’s pulse was pounding and her breath was shallow as she struggled to control the dread that swept through her.
Perhaps, just possibly, they had located Clare at last.
As the phone call came to a close, the tension in the air was evident.
Sophia turned to face Catherine with a composed yet determined look.
Despite the circumstances, she remarked in a firm voice and the police are on their way.
The station is close by.
They will arrive shortly.
Catherine waited for the sirens to call for help, her fingers shaking as she gripped the picture and nodded.
She was going to say something when a man came out of the brothel, looking around.
He immediately became aware of the disturbance, his eyes focusing on Sophia and Catherine.
With an air of power, he moved toward them, his face hardening as he spoke.
With a contemptuous tone, he snapped.
“You’re frightening my customer and my staff.
You must go.
” Sophia moved forward, her voice forceful but calm before Catherine could react, her heart pounding.
She pointed to the window where Clare or whatever she was was still sitting and added, “We’re looking for that woman.
We think the woman inside is the person we’ve been looking for.
” As she continued, “Unsename is Clare.
” Catherine’s heartbeat accelerated.
She is my daughter.
We need to talk to her, please.
The man sneered, his lips twisting into a sneer.
He shook his head and laughed.
And her name isn’t Clare.
You’re wrong.
Her name is Tracy.
She is not who you believe her to be.
At his words, Sophia did not recoil.
Catherine’s legs felt like they may buckle under her, but she kept her eyes fixed on him, unblinking.
She must have been mistaken.
Clare had to be here.
They were about to continue their argument when they heard sirens in the distance, which were getting louder by the second.
In an instant, the man’s expression changed, and he glanced over his shoulder toward the brothel, his face going pale.
A look of worry crept onto his face as his gaze returned to Catherine and Sophia.
Without saying another word, he hurried to the door and slipped back inside, but not before he grabbed Tracy’s arm and dragged her to the back door as though he wanted to go away with her.
Catherine felt her heart racing.
Stop.
The man tightened his hold on the woman’s arm and pushed toward the exit, seemingly oblivious to her sobs.
The roadway reverberated with the sound of heavy boots thumping the earth before they could respond.
The police were on the way with a dominating and determined presence, the officers barged into the brothel.
Hold on.
As they moved near the man and the lady Tracy, who was still fighting to escape his grasp, one of them said, “Put your hands in the air.
” With his back to the officers, the man froze.
He raised his hands and slowly turned to face them.
Trying to brush the incident off with a smug grin.
With a tone full of derision, he declared, “Both these women are crazy.
Tracy, not Clare, is the name of this girl.
She is not absent.
Thus, they are completely mistaken.
” The officers narrowed their eyes and remained apathetic while evaluating the scenario.
One of them replied calmly, “Oh, will need to talk to her and will need to see some identification.
” The grin on the man’s face wavered.
Catherine caught a glimpse of the glimmer of terror in his eyes.
He turned on his heel and tried to flee via the back door before anyone could respond, but the police were faster.
Before he could move more than a few feet, one of the officers sprang at him and grabbed him by the arm.
They quickly pulled him to the ground and the alley reverberated with the sound of the shackles clicking shut.
In a matter of seconds, the man’s effort to escape was stopped and he was apprehended.
Catherine, meantime, continued to stare at the woman she thought was Clare.
Tracy, the woman, remained standing there with a scared and bewildered expression on her face.
Quickly, the officers approached her and began talking to her, but Catherine could hardly hear them.
She was only able to concentrate on the woman’s face, looking for any clue that would support or contradict the intense desire in her heart.
With her hand resting lightly on Catherine’s shoulder, Sophia took a step forward her.
She said that everything would be all right.
But Catherine hardly heard her.
The single thought that kept coming back to her mind was, “Is this really Clare?” And cop escorted the young woman and the male out of the brothel, creating a tense environment outside.
As the cops collected Victor’s possessions, including his wallet, phone, and what appeared to be a taser, Catherine and Sophia observed.
The police discovered his ID while searching his wallet.
Confirming that he was Victor Sakalov.
They spoke to him in Dutch as they shoved him into a police vehicle.
Sophia assisted in translating their words into English for Catherine.
Although he is not yet on their wanted list, the officer stated that his last name suggests that he is associated with a group of individuals they have been monitoring for human trafficking.
They are curious about his level of knowledge about them.
With his face contorted in rage, Victor spat on the ground, he mumbled, his Russian accented English full of defiance.
I won’t say anything.
Unfazed, the officer nodded sharply.
he said in Dutch accented English.
And let’s see about that and slammed the police car door.
The cops returned their focus to Catherine and Sophia, leaving Victor to simmer in silence.
Catherine wasn’t sure if it was Clare or Tracy, but one of them gently led the woman toward them.
She moved slowly and sluggishly as if she was having trouble understanding what was going on around her.
Her eyes were glassy with bewilderment, and her words blended together in a garbled voice.
The sight of her twisted Catherine’s heart.
Is that you, Clare? With a practiced intensity, Catherine’s eyes scanned Tracy’s face as she addressed the question, her voice cracking.
She saw that the woman’s eyes were staring blankly at the street, not giving her complete attention.
Sophia took a step toward her and put a comforting touch on her arm.
When Catherine saw it, her heart stopped.
Tracy’s eyes shone in a way that didn’t seem natural, her pupils wide.
Her body language shouted that she was only partially aware of what was occurring and her eyes were heavy with bewilderment.
The breath caught in Catherine’s throat.
She trembled as she murmured.
“She’s she’s on something,” Sophia agreed with a dismal nod.
The cop took a step forward, his face serious.
“You’re right, ma’am,” he responded in a forceful but sensible tone.
“Me to get her medical attention first.
We won’t be able to fully question her till we get her sober.
Therefore, we can’t do anything else.
It’s too risky.
With a nod of comprehension, Catherine put a comforting hand on Sophia’s.
One of the cops added, “Pon’t take her to a clinic close to the police station.
Although it’s not a complete hospital, it has the facilities to treat, detox, and clean her up.
” Tracy was taken to one police car while Sophia and Catherine were escorted to another.
The three cars with Victor in them swerved aside, heading toward the station in a separate direction.
The sirens pierced the calm night air during the swift journey to the clinic, and the officers closely monitored the woman to ensure she didn’t lose consciousness anymore.
The medical staff was already waiting when they got there, and they quickly and efficiently took the woman inside.
The door shut behind Catherine and Sophia as they were escorted to the waiting room, obstructing their view of the clinic.
Despite her trembling palms, Catherine made an effort to control her breathing.
“Is that her?” More to herself than to anyone else, she muttered.
I’d really like to think it’s her.
Sophia put a hand on Catherine’s back and her eyes softened.
We’re getting closer, but we don’t know yet.
A few minutes later, an officer with a solemn look came from the clinic room into the waiting area.
He held up a little card with a picture on it and added, “We’ve secured her ID.
Although Tracy is her street name, her real name is Aaron Jansen.
” He stopped and looked at the door where the medical staff was at work.
To get her name into the system, we radioed the station.
We have yet to get an update.
Catherine’s gut twisted with sickness.
What if Clare wasn’t the woman? The idea that everything she had accomplished was a mistake was nearly intolerable.
If this hadn’t been her kid, she wasn’t sure how she would respond.
Detective Holloway might have been correct.
The likelihood that this woman was Clare was slim.
As they awaited reports from Tracy, the medical team, and the station, time seemed to pass with excruciating slowness.
Catherine’s heart was pounding with terror and hope as each crackle of the police intercom shot a shock wave through her veins.
As the dispatcher greeted the officer once more, it felt as though the earth was tilting beneath Catherine’s feet.
When Sophia realized what was being stated in Dutch, her eyes opened first.
Catherine had a sense of dreadful anticipation as the officer and Sophia looked at her.
“What? What were they saying?” Sophia was asked.
According to the police, Catherine was Aaron Jansen before she became that.
Clare Wilson was her name.
Her street name is Tracy.
Her ID and records of a previous request to change her birth name serve as proof.
It dawned on Catherine.
That chamber contained her daughter, her lost daughter.
She felt the moment’s weight pressing down on her chest.
Her heart pounded and her breath became labored as tears filled her eyes.
She is that Clare is that person.
Before she could stop it, Catherine let out a sob and her voice cracked.
Wiping her tears, she tried to regain her composure.
Can I talk to her right now, please? After looking at Sophia, the officer turned back to Catherine.
I apologize, ma’am, but we must adhere to protocol first.
We must ensure her stability and gather as much information as possible.
We’ll let you talk to her when we get to the station.
Catherine was unable to overcome the barrier of bureaucracy that seemed to separate her from her daughter, even if she wished to argue.
Rather, she nodded, relief and anguish weighing heavily on her chest.
She was at least aware that her daughter was still alive and only a short distance away.
After a lengthy period of silent waiting, the clinic room door finally opened and a member of the medical team exited with a relieved look on their faces.
One of the nurses calmly but reassuringly replied in the other language.
Seize regained consciousness.
The officers looked at each other, then at Catherine and Sophia.
Catherine got up from her chair.
One officer motioned for them to stay in the clinic’s waiting room and said, “Please wait here.
We’ll proceed from this point.
” The tension in the air was heavy and dense, and Sophia watched as Catherine picked at her nails while pacing the room, both of them holding on to a slender thread of hope.
Inside the room, they could hear muted voices, but the words were unclear.
They waited for what seemed like an eternity, but then the door opened once more.
With a somber expression, the cop who had been inside emerged.
He motioned for the young woman to be escorted and stated, “She’s ready.
” Tracy’s eyes darted around in bewilderment as they escorted her out of the room as though she was attempting to make sense of her circumstances.
After a moment of hesitation, she raised her voice, quiet but terrified, “Do I have a problem?” Glancing down at her arms, which still had the slightest traces of bruises, she asked, “For the drugs, am I in trouble? Where is Victor?” The mention of Victor made Catherines heart tighten.
Without hesitation, the officer answered in a tough but truthful tone.
Victor Sakalof was taken into custody on accusations of exploitation and human trafficking.
Lau Sakalof is the leader of a bigger organization with which he is associated.
You won’t have to deal with him anymore.
Tracy’s eyes opened and she stood motionless when his name was mentioned.
But then her gaze changed and she met Catherine’s.
She muttered.
Mom, her voice trailed off.
Is that you? With tears in her eyes, Catherine’s breath caught.
She found it hard to believe.
Her daughter was standing in front of her and recognized her after all these years and heartaches.
Her voice was full of emotion as she nodded, a shudder going through her.
“Indeed, Clare, it’s me.
I have missed you, Catherine.
” Clare hurried into Catherine’s arms and embraced her tightly without saying another word.
With all the love and relief she had been holding inside for so long, Catherine held her daughter.
Catherine broke into a whisper.
“I’m so happy to see you.
I never gave up.
Never.
With tough but gentle words, the officers who were watching the tearful reunion gently led the two women away.
I apologize.
We must move forward.
As much as I hate to interrupt the reunion, one of them remarked, “P will continue at the station.
” As they were led outside, Catherine nodded while firmly grasping her daughter’s hand and refusing to let go.
She didn’t let it go until they got into different police cars.
Tracy in one, Sophia and Catherine in another, and they all drove to the station.
They were escorted into an interview room upon their arrival, and Catherine was overcome with emotion as she gazed at her daughter, who had sat down, still in a trance, but now more aware.
Clare’s voice cracked as she said, “And Santa thought I’d never see you again.
I believe that I had given up on you, Mom, and that this nightmare would never end.
” Although her daughter’s remarks broke Catherine’s heart, she touched Clare’s face tenderly.
Every day I looked for you, the internet and posters.
I kept searching.
Never.
Clare nodded slowly as she started to piece together her story.
Tears in her eyes.
And it went by so quickly, she said, her voice more steady now, but still a little scared.
During the cruise, I was transported to Curasau.
Dad noticed me.
He caught up to the automobile as it came to a stop in an alley.
He made an effort to repel them, but they they were too strong for him.
They were six in number.
They also forced him into the vehicle.
He put up a fierce fight to keep me safe as they brought us to this warehouse.
However, they killed him after torturing and beating him.
Catherine’s face was pale with sadness and remorse and her breath stuck in her throat.
Hearing Clare describe it in such graphic detail rocked her world, even if she had questioned, even suspected, whether her husband might have been involved, Clare added in a hollow, aloof voice, and drugged me.
Me: I didn’t know where I was when I woke up.
I was simply surrounded by blackclad dudes.
In addition, there were other ladies in the room, all of them crying and terrified.
There were about 10 or 11 of us.
I’m not even sure how many.
Now it’s all a haze.
Clare’s voice wavered with every syllable, and Catherine’s chest achd more and more as she talked.
Clare remarked quietly that the first 5 years were the most difficult.
I was broken by them.
I started out as a model before becoming a nightclub dancer.
They sold me to a lot of men, including Victor.
I I have little memories of those years.
They always controlled me and drugged me.
As Clare spoke, her eyes wide as she relived those atrocities.
The police listened intently and typed her thoughts into the system.
The tears came despite Catherine’s best efforts to hold them back.
The anguish and shame threatened to overtake her because her kid had been through so much.
The officers took in the gravity of her statement with a sad nod.
Finding her was a relief, but the situation was still devastating.
One officer stated firmly that a DNA test would be necessary.
Immigration issues will be discussed tomorrow and will also get in touch with Orlando authorities.
Additional questioning will also be required.
Clare might have important information on the men or other women engaged in the trafficking operations.
The officer’s tone was encouraging but serious as he stated, “When we hope you’ll be willing to cooperate with us.
” Both Clare and Catherine nodded as the gravity of the situation set in.
Sophia, who had been quietly encouraging during the conversation, smiled warmly at Clare.
She said, “I’m glad you two found each other again.
” Oba, simply put, “I’m happy to see you again.
” Catherine looked at Sophia, unable to express how grateful she was.
Sophia, you saved her.
You located her and returned her to me.
I will never be able to pay you back.
I owe you forever.
Gazing at her, Sophia felt the impact of what she had said.
I’m not owed anything by you.
Mothers like you never give up.
That’s what counts.
Catherine, you didn’t give up.
The officers talked about their next course of action.
While the DNA samples were meticulously gathered, they promised to do all in their power to speed up the process, explained how Clare’s information would be handled, and explained how they would start the process of breaking up the trafficking organization that had imprisoned her for so long.
Catherine’s thoughts drifted amid the silence.
She reflected on the years she had lost with her family.
The sorrow she had borne and the emptiness she had experienced.
She was able to see a future with Clare for the first time.
Thankful for the companionship, the support, and the unflinching strength, she grasped Sophia’s hand once more, and Catherine’s heart felt lighter than it had in years.
As they left the police room, prepared to take on the next leg of the adventure.
Catherine realized that the road to recovery would be lengthy and full of challenges.
as they proceeded through the court proceedings, but that each step would be worthwhile.
Together, they would confront it.
Even though the years of suffering might never completely go away, they would manage to go on.
As they move toward recovery, they would face the trauma, the addiction, and the scars together.
For the first time in a long time, Catherine had a glimmer of optimism that her daughter would eventually find her way to recovery after everything she had been through.
Even if she had no idea what the future contained, Catherine was confident that she and Clare could handle whatever came next.
They would not stop now.
