The next morning dawned under a blood-red sky, the rising sun spilling fire across the horizon. The cracked windows of the orphanage glowed with the eerie light, dust motes drifting in the air like ashes.
The children woke slowly on their thin mats, that they had dragged into Selena’s room the night before, not wanting to leave her side. Stiff from a night of cold floors and too many bodies crammed into too little space. Morning always came the same way—quiet, heavy, and full of dread. Morning meant inspections. Morning meant orders. Morning meant pain.
Selena pushed herself upright before any of the little ones could see how much effort it took. Every lash across her back burned like fire, but she moved carefully, making her breathing steady. If the children saw her break, they would lo
