Moving Forward

The Truth Isn't Always Pretty Part 2

Luke's POV

We started the file. Not sure why he wanted us to look through it. The name on it was Sang Sorenson and it listed her age as 5 years old. There was a picture of her as soon as we opened the file. She had shoulder length mousy brown hair, it was tangled and ragged. Like it had never been brushed and someone had just hacked hair off when they thought it was getting to long. Her clothes looked to big for her. They were worn and threadbare. What you could see of her arms and legs were covered in scars, scratches and bruises. Her head tilted down, hiding her face. She was small, smaller than I think she was supposed to be. So thin that you could almost see her bones.

I may be a dreamer, but I wasn't as clueless as my brothers had always made me out to be. I knew I was lucky by having Uncle. Yeah, he wasn't perfect, but he never once mistreated me. He could be cranky and would lecture when he felt it was needed, but he has always had my back. I know that several of the others couldn't claim the same, that they had been abused in some form. I grew up with four of them and had seen their struggles. So I knew the signs. This little girl, she had endured abuse much worse than any of my brothers had.

We had only read a few pages before discovering that the pictures were an important part of the report. We restarted, this time using the photographs as they were listed in the report.

For some reason, my heart ached for this little girl and I didn't even know her. She just looked so lost and alone. The more we read, the more disturbed I became. A feeling of dread began forming inside me. As if my mind knew something was coming and was warning me to stop before it was to late. But I couldn't stop, Sven had told us to read this file. By the time we finished the file, the only thing I could do was to run to the nearest bathroom and heave my inner organs into the toilet bowl. I was quite sure Vic was doing the same.

Victor's POV

I had an inkling of what we would find. I vaguely recalled hearing my mother and her cronies discussing an Ericson and his daughter. I didn't remember exactly was said, but I would never forget the dressing down my grandfather had given them. He had left them in tears and they never gossiped about the Ericsons again. At least they never did it in my hearing.

The more I read and saw, the sicker I became. While I didn't know this Sang Sorenson, I had a feeling that I knew the girl she had become. The abuse and torture she had endured hadn't ended when she was five. It continued for several more years as the doctors repaired the damage that had been done to her physical body. As for the mental anguish, that would never completely go away.

I knew, deep down in my soul, I knew. I didn't need to finish the file, although, I did. Sang Sorenson had been a stolen child, taken when she was only hours old. Sang Sorenson's birth name was Raschel Raissa Ericson, my princess.

Unlike Luke, I didn't make it out of Sven's office before becoming sick. I puked my guts out into the waste basket. When I regained control of my stomach, I took the basket with me as I went to clean myself. A maid took the vomit filled basket from me and I joined Luke in the bathroom where new toothbrushes and mouth wash had been laid out. As if our reaction had been anticipated.

We returned to the office once we were presentable. Neither of us talked as we restored the pictures to their box in an orderly fashion and replaced the pages into the file cover. We didn't speak. We were both locked in our own minds as we tried to deal with the fact that a girl we were growing to love had been tortured so badly. The sad thing was that she hadn't been the only victim. A fourteen year old boy, who was doing the right thing, suffered his own anguish during those years. Then spent even more time trying to help her recover while ignoring his own despair.

Did that mean....... My thought was cut off when I heard the door open. I turned and saw Sven enter. My eyebrows rose in surprise. While covered in sweat, he was only wearing gym shorts. What caught my eye was the tattoo on his chest. A 3D tattoo. A white rose was placed above his heart. Dark green leaves made it look almost real. Behind the rose was an image of a grate in the shape of a diamond. Dark green vines grew down into the grate and entwined around what looked like a human heart. A mint green ribbon fluttered from it and held writing. It stated Raschel's name and birth date. Sven Ericson kept his daughter close to his heart at all times.

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