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Between 1993 and 1996, seventeen women from Division Avenue in Grand Rapids, Michigan, disappeared or were found murdered. Stefanija Delande worked the same corners.
One October night in 1994, a stranger in a Ford F-150 cranked his radio all the way up and started swinging. She escaped with one shoe on and a face too swollen to hold a pipe. She never learned who he was. She could have been the eighteenth.
The daughter of a Latvian refugee who outran two occupations, Stefanija was sent away from home at twelve and was working the stroll by nineteen. She robbed tricks and outran the police. She buried a son who lived five minutes. She gave birth in shackles and lost her daughter to a sealed adoption, and years later found her again. And in a prison shower, after a woman she had never met handed her the pickle only God knew she was craving, she heard His voice.
This is not an investigation into the murders. It is one woman's story, raw and darkly funny, and it says the women's names out loud.
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