Ranging from maybe five to twelve.
All of them terrified.
All of them looking at us like we might be the next monsters, like hope is a trap they've learned not to fall for.
Tor crouches down and puts himself at eye level with the girl.
He makes himself small, non-threatening.
"What's your name?" he asks gently.
"Emma."
"Hi, Emma. I know you're scared. I was scared once too. People hurt me when I was young. Bad people. But I got out. And now I help other kids get out." He extends his hand. "Will you let me help you?"
She stares at his hand.
At his face.
Searching for the lie.
For the trick.
For the inevitable betrayal she's learned to expect.
She won't find it.
Not from Tor.
Not from any of us.
Slowly, hesitantly, she takes his hand.
Her tiny fingers wrap around his scarred ones.
"Okay," she whispers.
Tor stands, keeping her hand in his.
"We're going to get you all out of here. Somewhere safe. And then we're going to find your families. Does that sound okay?"
Nods from the other children.
Still scared.
Still uncertain.
But trusting us.
Just a little.
Just enough.
We lead them outside.
One by one.
Careful.
