The girl looks at his hand. Looks at his face. Her gaze lingers on the marks on his neck, the scars visible on his forearms, the evidence that he's been hurt too. That he understands.
Something in her expression shifts. Not trust. She's too damaged for trust, but the beginning of hope. The first crack in the walls they've built around her.
She reaches out. Her small fingers wrap around his.
Jinx helps her to her feet, gentle, careful, like she might shatter at any moment. She probably could.
And behind her, in the depths of the children's wing, more are waiting.
"Marlee," I say quietly. "Get these doors open."
"On it."
Chapter Thirteen: Jinx
Sevenwon'tletgoof my hand.
Her fingers are small and cold, wrapped around mine with a grip that borders on painful. She walks beside me as we move deeper into the children's wing, her bare feet silent on the tile floor, her eyes tracking every shadow like she's waiting for something to leap out and drag her back to her cell.
I know that look. I wore it for years.
"Marlee, next door," Asher calls quietly.
The lock clicks. The door swings open. Inside, a boy maybe ten years old is huddled on his mattress, knees drawn to his chest, rocking back and forth. He doesn't look up when we enter. Doesn't react at all. Just keeps rocking, his lips moving in a soundless pattern that might be words or might be nothing.
"Hey." Marlee crouches in the doorway, keeps her voice soft. "Hey, buddy. We're here to help."
The boy's rocking intensifies. His hands come up to cover his ears, pressing hard, like he's trying to block out sounds only he can hear.
"Conditioned response," Jace says quietly from behind me. "They've trained him to shut down when approached. Defense mechanism."
"Can you reach him?"
"Maybe. Give me a minute."
Jace moves past Marlee, slow and deliberate, and sits down on the floor a few feet from the boy. Doesn't speak. Doesn't reach out. Just sits there, breathing steadily, becoming part of the room rather than an intrusion into it.
The boy's rocking slows. His hands lower, just slightly.
"We don't have time for this," Marlee mutters.
"We make time." My voice comes out harder than I intended. "We're not leaving anyone behind."
Seven's grip tightens on my hand. She's watching Jace and the boy with an expression I can't read. Recognition, maybe. Understanding.
"He's like me," she whispers. "They broke him the same way."
"How did they break you?"
She doesn't answer. Just turns those haunted eyes up to my face, and the truth is there, plain as day. The things she can't say because the words don't exist. The horrors that live in the spaces between language.
I know. God help me, I know exactly what they did.
"Jagger." I key my comm. "We need more time. These kids aren't going to come easy."
"Negative. You have forty minutes until the camera loop resets. After that, every guard in the building converges on your position."
"Then we work faster."
