Chapter TenIn the windowless room, the two infant boys slept, blissfully unaware of the cameras that watched their every move. The only sound in that room was the soft but incessant whirring of the air conditioner, which constantly recirculated and scrubbed the air that the children breathed day in and day out.
The sound of a key turning in the lock of the door that connected the room to the office was too quiet to disturb their sleep, and neither of them stirred as the woman entered the room. Walking across to where they lay, she slowly and quietly removed every single plaything that had been in the room before they'd fallen asleep. When they eventually awoke, they would be totally alone, save for each other, and their overwhelming urge would be to cry for their mother. There were no ted
