The airport was practically empty. Only a few people wandered the concourse, footsteps echoing. Nayeli rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and rolled her carry-on into the restroom behind her.

She past several empty stalls before stopping at one. As she stepped inside, she heard the rustle of clothing further down, followed by a muffled cry. Nayeli bent down, scanning the space under the stalls.

A few stalls down, there were two pairs of feet. A small pair with fluorescent pink nail polish in flip flops and a much larger pair in men’s tennis shoes. Nayeli knocked her carry-on over as she scrambled toward the closed stall.

She knocked twice on the stall door. “You okay in there?” There was some shuffling on the other side of the door. Nayeli leaned to the side, trying to see past the thin crack between the door and metal frame.

A rough, male voice growled. “Move on and mind your own business.” Nayeli’s hair stood on end. She closed her eyes. Maybe it was just a couple having fun getting frisky in a public restroom. Not something she would find appealing. But, still…

As Nayeli turned, she heard a whimper. She turned back and knocked again. “Hey!” She jiggled the handle. Locked of course. “Hey!” The metal door suddenly swung open, and Nayeli involuntarily took a step back.

A bulky, sour-looking man stood in the stall. He grasped the front of Nayeli’s shirt with his large, sausage fingers and yanked her into the stall, slamming her against the tile wall behind the toilet. As she sunk, she could hear the stall lock once again.

Her eyes flickered open against the pain in her head. On the other side of the toilet, a young woman cowered, her shirt torn and her hair a mess. When Nayeli looked back at the man, he narrowed his eyes. “Make a noise and I’ll bash your skull in.”

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