He didn’t even know her name, but the woman’s voice still haunted him.

“Please, help.”

Eric wasn’t a bad person. He hadn’t even wanted to be there, but his older brother was the gang’s leader, and Cameron always got his way.

Cameron had burst into young Eric’s room, proudly announcing his plan to a couple of the gang’s members before demanding Eric accompany them. He’d said no, but it didn’t make any difference to his brother, except that he’d had to hit him for daring to answer back.

“Please, help.”

He heard her whispered plea, the only one of the gang who wasn’t taunting her, or learing at her forcibly exposed flesh, her dress having been ripped from her body by Cameron himself. But there was nothing Eric could do. Even if his right arm hadn’t been in a sling, he could not have held his brother back, much less the entire gang.

“Please, help.”

It had been almost ten weeks, but the same soft words still echoed in his head. Eric wondered just how far he’d have to go to shut her up.