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She bought a soda and started asking people for directions. While Knight had never met him, she’d seen photos of him on Emily’s cell and overheard her talking to him on the phone. “If you give me a second here, maybe I can show you how to get there,” he said softly. “Wow, you must live in this place,” Knight said, as recounted in her memoir, . Instead of driving straight to the social services meeting, he told her he had to make a quick stop at his house first.They started talking about Knight’s son, Joey, and then Castro mentioned that his dog had just had puppies.She saw an old man standing in the yard next door, so she waved. “Why don’t you come with me upstairs so you can go ahead and pick out a puppy? On the second-floor landing, he directed her to a small bedroom with pink walls.“They’re under there,” he said, pointing to the dresser.
But we are largely uninterested in their aftermath.
Castro drove down the driveway, got out of the car and secured a large padlock on the gate. Weren’t they only going to be there for a few minutes? But Castro had an answer for everything: The puppies were sleeping, and Emily would be up any moment.
Castro said something about not wanting his truck to get stolen, then helped her out of the car. The thick air smelled like stale beer, urine and rotten black beans, and many of the windows were boarded up. “She’s right downstairs, putting some laundry in the machine,” Castro said. He pointed to the staircase, and Knight started climbing.
A young woman walked into a Family Dollar store in Cleveland, exhausted, sweaty and desperate.
Michelle Knight was 21 years old, and she’d spent the past few hours searching for the location of a crucial meeting.