7
The third, and the fourth rooms in the ‘container house’ were identical to the first two. Tracy and the children stood close together in the third room of the four-room complex buried beneath a hill in the middle of nowhere. There were mattresses, lots of them, spread around the floor. None of them looked new; some of them even bore stains of unidentifiable origin. And, there was an odour in the room. It was faint, but it was there; an old smell, like the room needed air flowing through it to carry away the stale odour of mold and mildew that lingered in dark, dank, confined places.
The children pressed close against Tracy’s body, some of them clinging to her dress and sobbing softly, their red, confused, watery eyes looking up at her, pleading, silently begging her to help them.
Trac
