Then a baby cried.
The sound split the reunion open.
We all turned to the door Thane had been guarding, and when he opened it what we saw … crushed what was left of my hope in humanity.
Behind that door were women.
So many women.
Some sitting against the walls. Some holding each other. Some holding babies. Seven babies. Tiny bundles wrapped in sterile blankets, their soft cries threading through the corridor like impossible proof that life had survived this place even when it had no business doing so.
Mom’s hands fell from Perse’s face as she turned toward the nursery.
And I looked at each one of them. I did not see “rescued prisoners.” I saw daughters. Mothers. Sisters. Girls who had been taken and kept and used.
Daddy cursed and the snarl that left Pops’ throat made them flinc
