“I still remember the pain as he grabbed me by the hair digging into my scalp while my head beat on the divider. I wrestled free and ran as fast as my legs would possibly take me. As I staggered into the gas station I caught my reflection in the glass window. I was a bloody, broken hopeless mess. Like a tape recorder her words played in my head, ‘You will never be anything more than a prostitute.’”
Hear Tiffany’s story – how God made beauty made from ashes.
