Victoria, Lexie, Mary, and Esther are safe now. But the road that brought them to a sanctuary in Western Montana — a safe house run by the Lifeguard Group — was paved with violence, manipulation and fear.
To protect their safety, their names have been changed.
"When I first got here, I was reading through my journal. That's what I'm holding. I was euphoric. I finally felt that I had got away. This time, I felt I had professional help to get me safe," Lexie said.
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They came by different paths — trafficked by family members, boyfriends or strangers — but their journeys now converge on a shared road to recovery.
"Whether it was my father with a gun in my face, or a husband, or just another man — that last time, I knew they were going to take my life," Esther said.
Victoria's nightmare began after she aged out of foster care. A friend promised easy money through prostitution.
She survived each assault in silence.
"No one knew I was a victim. I tried to play my cards right, so I wouldn't get killed," Victoria said.
"I didn't talk to them. I was shaking the whole time. I was terrified, and I just remember thinking to myself, 'This is not what God wanted for me. This is not the woman God wanted me to be,'" Victoria said.
She escaped — only to be trafficked again after returning to Montana.
"He would buy me gifts; he would buy me food. I didn't think anything of it. He would also watch me very closely on what I did with my phone. I wasn't allowed to text my family or reach out to anyone. Then he started making me sell pictures and videos, and he would be in the room with me, and he would have a gun," Victoria said.
Andrew Yedinak oversees Montana’s human trafficking investigations for the Department of Justice.
"They have lived every day believing their trafficker is the only person who cares for them," Yedinak said.
Traffickers are not just lurking on street corners.
"There's a plethora of websites that exist for nothing but the sale of commercial sex. Things like Snapchat Premium or OnlyFans are also areas where we're seeing women advertised for sex," Yedinak said.
Lexie thought she was simply meeting someone from a popular dating app.
"I would say I was the perfect candidate. I was in a new big city, recently divorced, alone, with a history of addiction and depression — just wanting to be loved," Lexie said.
Her trafficker drugged her, mirrored her phone activity, and intercepted every call for help.
It took several failed escape attempts before she found the Lifeguard Group.
"That's when the trauma really hit me. I dealt with dissociative flashbacks and was only getting three hours of sleep at night. It took extensive mental healthcare to get me back on track — and my body was completely wrecked," Lexie said. "No matter the circumstances, no woman should be sold."
Mary was married for 40 years.
Her husband made sure she was the breadwinner by selling her body.
"Through the fights, I figured out that there wasn't really any love. The only love there was the money that I was making, and he could do what he wanted and did," Mary said. "I never had any issues with customers. I had issues with my husband."
Montana Attorney General Austin Knudsen said the state is doing better at combating sex trafficking, but he acknowledges it is not enough.
Only 1% of human trafficking victims are ever recovered.
"We're still treating a gunshot wound with a Band-Aid. I think there was really an attitude of, 'This makes us uncomfortable. We don't know what to do with this,'" Knudsen said.
The victims are younger than many people realize.
"The average age of victims nationwide is 14 to 24. Most enter the life as juveniles. We've worked cases in Montana with victims as young as 9 and as old as their 70s and 80s," Yedinak said.
Montana has established its own human trafficking hotline.
The Lifeguard Group said most calls initially came from people reporting possible crimes, but they are now getting more calls from victims seeking help directly.
In school gyms and auditoriums across the state, students are being told the hard truth — because they could be the next targets.
"In every Montana school we've visited, at least one student has come forward after the assembly and self-identified as a trafficking victim," Tami Hochhalter said.
Hochhalter and her husband, Lowell, founded the Lifeguard Group's safe house, which has been open for almost three years.
It offers women various therapies and care, including optional spiritual guidance.
They carry the weight of every story they hear.
"We've heard so many stories, and sometimes you think, 'OK, that has to be the worst story. There can't be one that's worse.' And unfortunately, no matter how long you do it, there's always going to be one," Hochhalter said.
But inside those walls, something else is growing.
"Hope — that's one of our favorite words. I'm not going to be restricted by what happened to me in the past. There can still be a good future for me," Hochhalter said.
The survivors are proof of that.
"I feel safe, I love it here. It's so peaceful," Victoria said.
"I heard the voice of God say, 'You're home, unpack your bags, it's safe now,'" Esther said.
"You need a time out. Being here is my time out," Mary said.
"I value my life, and I know that there's someone taking care of me upstairs, so now I value my life and I cherish it," Lexie said.
To reach the Montana Human Trafficking Hotline, call or text 1-833-406-STOP (7867).
If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call 911.
This article has been lightly edited with the assistance of AI for clarity, syntax, and grammar.
