My Sister Sold Me to Traffickers

Cassandra Grant had been abducted and held captive in the remote wilderness for three harrowing years. Tortured to the brink of death, she was finally rescued.

The police car pulled up to the grand estate and came to a gentle stop.

Cassandra stepped out, her gaze lifting to the sprawling mansion in front of her. But her eyes carried a shadow of unfamiliarity, as though this place, her home, had turned into a stranger.

She could hardly be blamed for not recognizing it.

Today, the Grant estate was ablaze with festivity. Newly adorned, celebratory banners swayed in the summer breeze, and the air practically shimmered with the laughter and hum of a lavish gathering.

"Is this the Grant residence?" one of the officers asked, peering curiously at the scene.

His colleague nodded assuredly. "It is. I called them several times, told them we found their daughter. But they thought it was a scam and hung up every time."

A female officer in the back seat added with a sharp edge of disbelief, "Their eldest daughter has been missing all this time, and they still have the heart to throw a party."

Cassandra stood there under the blazing sun, listening to their words, her emotions a tangled web she couldn't quite grasp. But she didnt linger on it. Her heart was too full, submerged in the overwhelming joy of finally being home.

"Cassandra, its time to go inside," the female officer urged gently.

Right. Cassandra gave a small, fleeting nod, a faint smile glimmering for an instant. She lifted her feet and began walking toward the courtyard.

Judging by the decorations and the revelers swarming the estate, someone was likely getting married today. Perhaps her brother. What perfect timing, she thought. Her return would surely make this a double celebration.

Her parentsyes, they would be overjoyed to see her. To have their long-lost daughter finally back in their arms!

Hope swelled in her chest, knotting her breath and quickening her pulse. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

The sprawling lawn was brimming with romance, decked in soft lights and floral arrangements. Luxury cars lined the driveway in neat rows. But as she crossed the threshold, she caught sight of a towering poster propped near the entrance: a glossy image of a radiant couple. And beneath it, a caption in elegant script: *Miles Carter & Rose Grant Engagement Party.*

The world tilted.

Cassandras vision dimmed, her knees nearly buckling beneath her. The happiness that had been building like a tide in her chest froze solid. The name carved into that poster slashed through her like a blade*Miles Carter.*

Miles. The golden heir of the esteemed Carter family, the same man who had once been her childhood sweetheart. Her Miles.

And today, he was getting engaged. To her younger sister, Rose.

The man who had promised to cherish her forever, who had once shielded her and cradled her, whispering vows of everlasting lovehe was now pledging himself to someone else?

Cassandra stood in the yard, her body rigid, her lips pressed tight against the storm of disbelief threatening to break free.

Cassandra, go on in, the female officer prompted again, mistaking Cassandra's halting steps for hesitance at reuniting with her family. "Theyll be so overwhelmed with joy to see you."

But Cassandra didnt move. Her gaze remained fixed, locked on the words and faces emblazoned on the poster. Her body trembled, a fine quiver overtaking her limbs as if the very earth had grown roots beneath her feet, anchoring her there.

Inside, the party was in full swing, the air alive with music and laughter. All eyes were on the radiant couple in the center, as voices teased and cajoled for them to share a kiss. But the moment shattered when someone near the entrance gasped audibly.

"Cassandras back!"

The jubilant hum dropped to a stunned silence so complete it seemed as though even the music had frozen. Heads snapped toward the doors, gazes scanning until they landed on the figure standing in the courtyard. Eyes widened; jaws tightened.

"It really is Cassandra... but shes unrecognizable."

"Like some destitute ragged ghost."

"Didnt they say she was abducted and sold off to some mountain village? She was having babies for some old man, wasnt she? How on earth did she manage to escape?"

She was escorted back by the policelook there.

Murmurs rippled across the room, rising and falling in bewildered currents. People stared unabashedly, eying her with mixtures of shock and morbid curiosity.

Even the golden couple, the immaculate figures clutching each other in the center of the celebration, were frozen in place. Miles Carter, whose arm was draped lightly around Roses waist, stared at Cassandra with an expression caught somewhere between incredulity and dread. Beside him, Roses face had turned stark white, her lips shaping silent disbelief.

"Sister" Rose finally managed, her voice a faint tremor. Her wide eyes darted over Cassandra, as if unable to process the sight before her. Cassandra. Alive.

Cassandra continued to stand there, unmoving. Her presence was a jagged wound tearing through the evenings carefully constructed perfection. The once-dazzling socialite of Imperiawho had graced the citys most exclusive galas and eclipsed every other star in the roomwas now back, broken and stripped of her former glory. But her essence, though battered, refused to wither.

Three years ago, she had been a symbol of brilliance and promise, the jewel of the Grant family, the muse whispered of in the dreams of countless scions. Mention her name, *Ms. Grant,* and it would evoke sighs of admiration and longing.

But everything had unraveled on that fateful night.

She and Rose had been out until late at an elite banquet, then set off home in the familys car. A tire burst midway, forcing the driver to halt by the roadside. While the driver replaced the tire, Cassandra and Rose stood by, helping to hold the flashlight.

Thats when it happened. A van came screeching out of the darkness, doors swinging open as armed men lunged for Rose. Cassandra fought like a wild thing to save her, her screams piercing the night. With the drivers help, they managed to wrest Rose free from the mens grasp. But in the chaos, one of the assailants turned and grabbed Cassandra instead, a burlap sack yanked over her head before she was hauled into the van.

She thought it was a simple kidnapping, an extortion for ransom. She imagined her parents would pay, and, in a matter of days, shed be safely returned.

But no. She had fallen into the clutches of an expansive, ruthless human trafficking ring that roamed across provinces without mercy.

Sold off and discarded like property, she was transported through countless hands until she found herself shackled in the isolated depths of a mountain village. For three years, Cassandra was locked away like an animal, chained in a pen that reeked of filth. She ate, slept, and survived alongside livestock. The abuse and degradation were unrelenting.

More than once, men had tried to force themselves on her. She would have been defiled, shattered completelyif not for the intervention of her so-called "husband," a man whose simplicity of mind rendered him more a child than a predator. He had shielded her in his own clumsy ways, protecting her from the worst fates.

She had resigned herself to that bleak existence, certain she would die there, her life extinguished in a place without light or mercy.

But fate had not abandoned her completely. A twist of fortunea raid, a thread of persistencehad brought her back.

And now, here she stood.

The Ministry of Public Securitys anti-trafficking task force had succeeded in rescuing her.

For three years, she had imagined countless scenarios of her homecoming, never once envisioning it would look like this.

Awaiting her return was not a warm embraceit was her boyfriend and younger sisters engagement banquet.

For a moment, the air felt ripped in two, the atmosphere frozen in jagged suspension, until an awkward murmur broke from the crowd.

Cassandra, is... is that you? Youre back?

Cassandra blinked, her gaze drifting away from the garish banner celebrating love to settle on the middle-aged woman addressing her, whose uncertain smile lingered behind polite habit. Cassandras lips curved faintly. Yes, Im back

Another voice chimed in, tentative with curiosity and concern. You mustve been through hell, poor thing. Look at youyoure so frail, so

What followed was a sharp nudge from someone beside her. Stop it! Dont say another word. I heard shes sicka disease that spreads, they said! The conspiratorial whisper, just audible, stoked uneasy laughter nearby.

Embarrassment cut deeper than the pleasantries; the tension would have thickened if not for the Grant family themselves, who practically rushed to the scene, unbidden.

Rachel Grant froze at the sight of the girl on the landing below. Her wide eyes raked over Cassandra; disbelief gripped her limbs into stillness.

This was her eldest daughterwhat remained of her. That glorious cascade of soft, dark hair Rachel had so envied once was shorn close, charred with uneven savagery. The clothes clinging to her were cheap, worn, unsuitable for anyone raised with love. A pair of ill-fitting mens shoes, scuffed to near-ruin, sat mutely below bare ankles encircled with bruises that singed the eye. As Rachels gaze reached her daughters arms, her breath caught at the sight of blackened ligature marks and a mosaic of deep abrasions.

Rachels lips worked soundlessly, the words she sought slow to solidify as her disbelief curdled somehow into awe. Its really Cassandra

At the sound of her mothers voice, a fragile, impossible joy sparked in Cassandras chest and spread like embers grasping timber. Tears swelled almost painfully. She stepped forward, almost involuntarily, hope standing shakily on her being. Mom, Im back.

Then, beyond her mothera figure. Her father stepped into sight. Her brother appeared too, momentary shadows over their faces both unreadable and sharp-edged. Dad. Big brother. Her voice fractured slightly, naming them, calling them home from the years they had spent too far from her. She thought they would collide, didnt guess it would feel this weighted.

Thomas Grant, the patriarch of the family, let his expression twist for a fraction before it settled into something intended to be warmth. He nodded once to acknowledge what was suddenly far away. Youre back now. Thats what matters.

Even his attempt felt polished. There was no melodrama, hardly welcome. Cassandras gut twisted. She wanted more but felt something stolen.

But this attempted warmth was cold before long. Thomas shifted his head sideways slightly, muttering as he shared quick whispers his wife returned. Private memories looped hollow.

Both he and Rachel conjured one distinct thing that numbed here. That earlier year responding to elusive fragile snatches claimed, police held disturbed truths regarding opaque brutal places events too primal in rural swathes; idols here family blamed ill spirited dark despair fact their apparent prestige submission explanation claimed ignored police resigned away queries.