“I thought if anyone important found them, they’d take them away. I didn’t know if you were good.”
Daniel crouched, gripping the boy’s shoulders gently. “What’s your name?”
“Ethan.”
“Ethan… take me to them.”
They left the cemetery and crossed the city as it slowly changed from polished streets to cracked pavement and rusted fences. Daniel followed the barefoot boy through alleys and narrow paths until the smell hit him—smoke, rot, metal. The landfill stretched like a gray wasteland.
Ethan led him carefully through piles of debris. “They’re under a tarp. They’re scared of adults.”
Then Daniel heard it. A faint whimper.
Ethan crouched near a torn blue sheet. “Lily… Rose… it’s me.”
Two small faces peeked out. Thin. Dirty. Frightened.
Alive.
Daniel dropped to his knees. “Lily… Rose…”
They didn’t run to him. They hid behind Ethan.
“Don’t move fast,” Ethan whispered. “They trust me.”
Daniel stayed where he was, tears falling freely. His daughters were breathing, blinking, trembling—and terrified of him.
“I’ll come back,” he promised softly. “I won’t force anything. I just want you safe.”