“What did he say in that language?” asked Det. Salvatore of her attacker, resting in a chair beside the bed. 

     She looked around at her mother and friends as she spoke. 

     “He told me I was worth more to him than what the others wanted from the other women,” she told them. “I tried to beg him to let me go. I said it in Pazeh to appeal to him, but it only made him angry. He hit me really hard and called me a stupid bitch.  

     He started talking about others like him, but I could barely keep my mind on his words. As he spoke, he s-s-started burning me. 

     He had three branding irons with symbols on them. He burned them into my chest and my stomach while he raped me again. One on each breast and one around my navel. 

     I passed out. I don’t know if it was from the pain, the shock, or both. Maybe he gave me more of that drug when he covered my mouth again. I was in too much pain to understand anything anymore. 

     When I woke up, I was laying naked on cold concrete. There was a foul smell somewhere beside us. When I looked up, I saw the back of the Jade Monkey, so the smell must have been from a dumpster. 

     I knew people parked there when the front lot was full, so I started to hope someone would save me. I was about to scream for help when I saw a bucket being held over my face. I shut my eyes just as blood hit me. He poured it all over me. Then I felt him on top of me again. 

     He told me it had all been for me, that everything he’d done was for justice after what I’d done to him. I felt a sharp point over my heart. I tried to scream but he wrapped the scarf around my mouth. I felt the point going into my chest. I was certain that’s how he was going to kill me. 

    Then, all of a sudden, he got up and disappeared. I laid there for a few minutes thinking someone was there to help me. That maybe someone was coming and had scared him off.  

     I didn’t hear anyone or see anyone. I couldn’t move, either. I hurt too bad. I just shut my eyes and prayed someone would find me before I died.” 

     She took the cup of water Mrs. Norah handed her and drank while her mother and her friends cried at her account.   

     “I didn’t want any of you to hear about all that,” she told them as they hugged her. “I think you would eventually, though, and it’s better for me to tell you now.” 

     “Is there more you need from my daughter?” asked Mrs. Norah of the detectives as she wiped away her tears. 

     “One more thing, ma’am, and we’ll let Melody get back to her rest,” Det. Salvatore replied.

     Melody nodded to her mother and held her friends’ hands in wait. 

     “I know you met with an artist, but we need you to describe him to the best of your recollection,” Det. Salvatore requested. “Everything about him, even down to the way he held his drink. Any characteristics, like tattoos, mannerisms, or cologne.” 

     “He had darker skin than Det. Fang,” Melody began, and he scribbled quickly on his notepad. “His hair was black. It looked like he used something in it, like mousse or gel. It was kind of long but not to his shoulders. 

     His eyes were dark brown but sitting next to him at the club, I could tell they were colored contacts. His teeth were so white, he must have them regularly bleached. I had a sense the wore make-up, like foundation, because his face seemed too smooth. You know, no pores or blemishes of any kind like normal people.” 

     “He was gorgeous, like he spent a lot of money on self-care,” replied Bridgette with a shrug, though no longer impressed with his image.  

     “His clothes were top of the line, this season,” Amy added. “Now that I think about it, he was pretty high on himself. He acted like Melody was the cream of the crop and Bridgette and I couldn’t buy his time.” 

     “You know,” Bridgette began to realize, “he didn’t act like a guy trying to pick up women. Dae and Jae did everything to impress us. You know, like guys do in a club. This guy acted like it was us who had to impress him. Except for Melody. He treated her like they had known each other for years.” 

     “So he came on strong?” asked Det. Fang toward Melody, standing to step closer once again. 

     “Not to me, not really,” she answered. “Like I said before, he was polite. He made me feel like I was the only one at the club who mattered. Maybe I would have noticed what they did if I wasn’t so flattered. I’m such an idiot,” she chastised herself. 

     She looked out the window once more as the lightening flashed and the dawn sky chased away the fateful night. 

     “It was New Year’s Eve. You were having fun like anyone else your age,” Det. Salvatore comforted to ease her guilt. 

     The detectives watched Melody’s eyes shut tightly as more tears fell. 

     “I know this is very difficult,” Det. Fang said gently, “but we want to help you.” 

     “Ladies, I want you to think carefully,” Det. Salvatore urged as his partner watched Melody with pity. “Are you absolutely positive you never saw this man before tonight?” 

     “I know I never saw him,” answered Amy positively. 

     “I never saw him,” Bridgette answered, too. 

     “Not even in my dreams,” Melody responded quietly without turning away from the window. 

     He would certainly be in her nightmares. 

     “Detectives, aren’t there security cameras in the club?” Mrs. Norah asked with a tone of hope. 

     “There are,” Det. Fang replied. “There are cameras inside the club and outside in multiple areas. They weren’t working that night or when the other two women were abducted. With the statements of your daughter and these young women, we can rewatch footage from other nights and see if anything stands out.” 

     “We were there the first Saturday of December,” Lauren told them. 

     Det. Fang turned to Det. Salvatore. “We can see if anyone was watching them that night, particularly Melody.” 

     Det. Salvatore wrote the suggestion in his notebook. 

     “I think that’s enough for now,” he said to Det. Fang, who nodded in agreement. 

     “Oh, we should discuss new living arrangements,” Det. Salvatore announced. 

     “What do you mean?” worried Melody. 

     “After this alert goes out, your survival will certainly be part of the headlines,” explained Det. Fang.   

     “Although it seems he wanted you alive, maybe he intended for you to die. Maybe those others he spoke of wanted you dead. When he or they find out you survived, they’ll likely come after you.” 

     Melody’s friends gasped in fear, and her mother held her close. Melody didn’t say anything. She clenched the bed sheets tightly, trying desperately not to cry again. She had to be strong if she was going to get through this, not only for herself but for her mother. 

     “I won’t leave my house,” she insisted. “My mother needs me and my father is there. He has cancer and I need to be there if something happens.” 

     The detectives looked at her and her mother and at each other for a solution.

     “Is there any way this man could know where you live?” asked Det. Salvatore.    

     Melody shook her head in doubt as she tried to think of any way he could.

     “I had left my purse in Bridgette’s car,” she replied. “The bouncers at the door know us, so I didn’t need to bring my ID. There was nothing else with my full name or address.” 

     “Same with us,” Bridgette and Amy remarked. 

     “Maybe she was targeted before that night,” Det. Fang said to Det. Salvatore. “They said he went straight for Melody and didn’t give them the time of day. He was only interested in her.” 

     “What do you mean?” Melody wondered. 

     She and the others waited anxiously for an answer. 

     “We can’t say anything for certain yet,” Det. Fang told her. “If your father can be moved, we should look into doing that as quickly as possible. In the meantime, we can have officers patrolling your neighborhood to see if he makes a move.” 

     “That’ll be it for now,” Det. Salvatore said to them. He stopped the recording on his phone and put it away in his pocket. “As soon as we find anything new, we’ll let you know,” he told Melody.    

     He took some business cards from his coat pocket and handed one to each of them except for Mrs. Norah. He scribbled something on the back of one before handing it to her.  

     “In case any of you remember anything else, you can give us a ring,” he told them. “The case number is on the front. I also wrote the number for the rape crisis center on the back of yours, Mrs. Norah.” 

     Mrs. Norah sniffed as they took the cards.  

     “Thank you,” she told him softly. 

     Before he joined his partner, Det. Fang put his hand gently on Melody’s shoulder and told her softly, almost just so she could hear and in a deliberate tone, “Hang in there. You’ll get through this, and we won’t quit until this freak gets what’s coming to him.” 

     Melody only nodded but didn’t look at him. She clenched her fists at his touch.  As supportive as it was meant to be, she didn’t want it there. She believed she would never wanted a man to touch her again, and she began to cry at what it meant for her future. 

     He took his notepad out again and jotted down a number.  

     Handing it to Mrs. Norah he told her, “This is the direct number to a specialist at the rape crisis center. She deals with unusually violent cases like this one. See to it Melody goes. What he did will leave scars, but the worst are the ones you can’t see.”

     Mrs. Norah nodded and held his extended hand in gratitude before taking the paper from it. With a gentle clang of metal, the door shut behind them.