We were, mostly, on the opposite sides of the criminal justice system. Not necessarily opposed, but opposite. I think prostitution, like drugs, should...be legal. Problem is, nobody seems to give a rat’s fart what I think.As I self-philosophized, young girls, young boys, came into the kitchen. To rinse something off, to get more disinfectant, clean rags. They barely glanced at the kitchen table activity. Nothing new, not to them, not with what they did for a living.Laquita though, did notice,. She stopped. “I can’t.”“What?”“I can’t.”“Why not, Penelope?”“I’m scared. There are people who want to kill her, you know that. They might think I am Faye.”“You? Tall, blonde? You don’t look anything like her.”“But it’s her car. They may know the car.”I reached over her and opened her door. “What are the chances? Come on, she needs that case.”The fear in her eyes was genuine. She slowly, hesitantly extended a long leg out of the car and started to move. I pulled her hard, fast, back into the car. More

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