But something stops me.
The children.
None of them are running toward us.
None of them are crying.
None of them are speaking.
They’re just…
watching.
Waiting.
Like they’ve been trained to stand there.
Hannah slowly kneels in front of the little girl.
Gentle.
Careful.
Like approaching a wounded animal.
“It’s okay,” Hannah whispers softly.
The little girl flinches instantly.
Not from fear.
From hearing kindness.
Jesus Christ.
Hannah’s face breaks right in front of me.
Because she recognizes it.
That reaction.
That conditioning.
She lived it.
“You’re safe now,” Hannah says quietly.
The girl’s lips part slightly.
Confusion flickers across her tiny face.
As if the words don’t make sense to her.
Wu speaks again.
“You see the difficulty, Hannah.”
The lights flicker red overhead.
