––––––––
Trinity slid off the table, pulling her knife from the sheath at her side as she crept down the hallway.
“Calm down, Callie. I can’t understand you.” Dr. Kalper stood at the front door, his hands on a Servant’s shoulders. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”
The female babbled incoherently. She was young—maybe ten or twelve—skinny and dirty. Another stray left to fend for herself. Her face was streaked where the tears had washed away the grime, and her clothes were covered in blood, but it was her eyes that made Trinity’s heart freeze. She’d seen that look on the faces of the Producers, right after one of them from the group that’d escaped the Finishing Camp had been taken by a River-Man.
“You...Don’t...They...You have to come.” Callie’s claws dug into the doctor’s arm
