Vanessa teared up. I kept watching though. The last image they had of her was running up the stairs as their father kept calling their mother a whore. And were still anchored several hundred yards off the shore. There was a wood burning stove in the kitchen and her mom told us, “Why don’t you girls go down and get us some water to boil and maybe wash up, I’m sure you’d love to rinse off some.”
But then my mom immediately said, “Yeah, I’ll go with ’em though………I still don’t trust this island.”
It was a short walk to the water and mom put our bucket for water down and hesitantly looked around. Early the next morning just as the sun was coming up, Officer Vicky and Judy led us out to the beach were there was two dozen more officers all dressed in black with machines waiting beside three small boats.
