As I looked around I saw them gathering. The Handlers stood together, holding the hands of a little boy and a little girl. The children looked terrified, but one of the women crouched down to them.
I inched closer and closer until I heard her voice. It was gentle, almost caring. Her face showed genuine concern. It was strange, somehow alien to see a Handler like this. It flew against everything I ever believed about them. But could I trust her? They used us as bait, that was not something I could easily forget and forgive. But the hardest part of being a hero is to survive it all.
Honestly, I never thought of myself as one. In fact, I considered myself a failure in most things. When I saw myself reflected back to me, I never knew where the real me went, but I kind of hoped in vain that s
