Hydraulics groan.
Cold air rushes through from the corridor beyond.
Then everyone freezes.
Because children are standing on the other side.
About ten of them.
Different ages.
Some barely six or seven.
Gray uniforms.
Bare feet.
Thin.
Silent.
Every single one staring at us without expression.
My chest physically tightens.
Oh God.
Hannah stops breathing beside me.
The smallest little girl steps forward slowly.
Dark hair.
Huge terrified eyes.
She can’t be older than five.
And around her wrist—
a black barcode tattoo.
Just like Hannah’s.
No.
No no no.
Wu’s voice suddenly returns through hidden speakers overhead.
“You wished to save them.”
Calm.
Proud.
“Here they are.”
Rage burns so hot inside me I nearly move without thinking.
