I was scared and nervous as Dad drove us to meet some guy named Mike. I didn’t know Mike, but I knew my father owed him a lot of money, and he was going to use me, or my body, to pay off his debt.

When I’m anxious, I tend to babble a lot, and that was happening now. “Just a few pictures, right?” I asked for at least the third time.

“Yes, Amy, just pictures.”

“But I have to take my clothes off?”

Dad sighed. I could tell he was growing impatient at having to answer the same questions over and over, but like I said, sometimes stress turns me into a motormouth. “Yes, sweetie, you’re gonna have to be naked, like a Playboy model,” he chuckled.

I didn’t know why he laughed, unless he was as nervous as I was. I was pretty sure none of the girls in Playboy were fourteen, but I kept that to myself. “He’s not gonna try to touch me or ... anything else?” I asked.

“No pumpkin, just pictures.

“What’s he gonna do with them?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. I figured that was a lie, but I accepted it, maybe because I really didn’t want to know.

We pulled into a sleazy motel and Dad parked in front of Room 17. He turned the car off and we sat silently for a few seconds, then he turned to me and said, “Come on, let’s get this over with.” Yeah, like he was the one about to have to do something awful.