Elle climbed out of the window to get out. I should have expected it, I suppose. There was a car waiting for her - a different one. It zoomed off as soon as she got in. I saw her go and ran after her, but it was too late. Now I have no idea where she is. How can I sleep, when my daughter is out on the streets, doing goodness knows what? She’s being dumped in all sorts of places: by the side of the road, pub gardens and parks.
I know this can’t have just happened. I’m not that naïve. These men must have been grooming her, maybe taking advantage of the fact that she thinks she is ugly to flatter her and convince her that they like her, and then … this? What exactly have they done - are they doing - to my daughter? If only I could get my hands on them, they’d regret ever coming near Elle! I think they underestimate how angry I am - maybe they do not understand a mother’s love for her youngest daughter? I know it’s not right to feel like this - I know I should be willing to forgive them, but God knows, it’s hard!