The sun dips low, casting a golden glow over the young woman as she stands by the roadside, thumb out, desperate for a ride. Her clothes are thin, barely concealing her curves. A car slows to a stop, the driver leering at her. "What's your price, sweetheart?" he asks, licking his lips. She swallows hard, but her eyes gleam with determination. "Three hundred," she replies, her voice steady. He chuckles, "You're expensive. But I'll pay." She opens the door, ready to work for her fare, her body the currency.