Reese POV
My feet scraped against the tiled floor as the guards dragged me through the corridor.
The air grew colder the deeper we went, so sharp and sterile it stung my nostrils.
I clutched the baby tighter against my chest, her small cries breaking through the hollow echo of our footsteps.
Every turn led us past glass panels and locked metal doors, and behind them, I could hear faint mechanical hums, low whirs, muffled screams.
A smell hit me first — chemicals. Heavy, acidic, and nauseating. It reminded me of burnt metal mixed with antiseptic. The fluorescent lights above buzzed, white and merciless, exposing every surface , spotless, clinical, and cruel.
When they finally stopped, I was shoved into a large open room. My knees hit the cold floor.
The space looked like somethi
