Press for information

"You sure about that?" Katja pressed, folding her arms. "Because your father seems to think otherwise..."

"Don't tell my dad...!" Karen begged despretely, tears in her eyes. "He'd never look at me the same way!"

"Tell me what happened," Katja urged. "I'm a police officer, I can help."

"Well, my friend told me about these guys who were looking for young girls like us, to make movies I guess," Karen confided through the shop window, "so I told Missy, and she was going to look into it..."

"And why did you tell Missy about it?" Katja inquired.

"At first it was because she's also the type they were looking for..." Karen replied, sensing the next question. "Pretty, young, white. She wanted to sort of investigate it, I guess, maybe because they were ugly, old and black guys. But I'm worried that made things worse, and that they're gonna find me, or release some footage of me..." The teenager trailed off, apparently too embarressed to continue.