J. Cat: Human Trafficking

The phone rang just past midnight, cutting through the silence of J. Cat’s dimly lit apartment. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered anyway.

“J. Cat,” he said, his voice steady and low.

There was silence on the other end, then a trembling voice—a girl, no older than twelve or thirteen. “Help me,” she whispered.

J. Cat sat up, his instincts immediately on edge. “Who is this? Where are you?”

“They took me… I don’t know where… Please, they’re coming—”

The line went dead.

J. Cat stared at the phone, the girl’s terrified voice echoing in his mind.