All the Shadow learned in Nox’s Verse that I was twelve Earth years old when I arrived on Cinder. So we must be closing in. This is the last time I want to recall one million years in Hell.

My entire last year on Gait, the girl whose name I can’t recall learning, slept in my bed every night. We read, and we rested. Recovered our souls from the torrent. She taught me how to care for my hair. I taught her a few defensive maneuvers, hoping to stem the bruises she bore every evening. We made a haven in the storm.

Until it blew us away.

The child labor—all the slave labor throughout the Vast Collective—underwent major scrutiny. Triss was thoroughly chafed and took it out on us. Pehton’s initial petition was dismissed, but we know now that she fought on another front.

[SS]: FYI, Pehton bargained with Razor to release the children in exchange for the Lyrik’s volition. She came into possession of their will when Enki promoted her to Executive Warden. Little did she, or any of us, know, but it was all within Imminent’s design. A means for the Pain Curator to take control of a planet-wide weapon he created. The Chorus.

I glimpsed Pehton between sessions with Miy and the other Lyriks under my blows. In one of those instances, I noticed her pregnancy but dismissed it as none of my business. Especially as the whirlwind thereafter consumed me.

[SS]: Enki promoted her to Executive Warden after she agreed to bear Primary Rem—Remorse’s—children. Razor kept his end of their deal after they were born. Otherwise, they were destined to face the same fate as all the Prisonborne—slavery. Pehton had no other choice, but it was Imminent that orchestrated the entire scenario. For one despicable stratagem that we’re still unraveling today.

I finished practice with Miy and Oleen and prepared for a prisoner engagement when I heard a door slam above us. All the Lyriks hurried into the hall, dragging me with them. Triss swept down the stairs from the Executive Warden’s private quarters. She carried a loaded bag in each hand. Without a word, she glided to the lift with her chin held so high I thought she was sniffing the perfume in the air. She met no one’s eyes and left a chill in her silent wake. Quiet even after the lift took her down.

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“What do you think?” Miy asked Oleen.

The gentle Lyrik’s eyes grew wide. Both women answered at the same time. “Pehton.”

I kept my gaze on the pretty purple rug running the length of the hall while they gossiped. Once I gained enough information to share with my friend, I asked Oleen to help with the lift. But when it returned, the man with nice shoes was on it.

The white suit with black stitching Razor wore that day later helped Pehton and I identify him in our memories as the culprit for the following events.

“Come with me, contaminant.”

I followed him to the lobby, where all the other children waited. My friend found me and held my hand when Razor wasn’t looking. Another man, I later learned was Remorse, joined us on the trek out to the prison yard.

It recently snowed, and I let my bare toes scrunch in it. I admired the serene beauty until a bright green dot appear. Followed by another. It fell from my friend. I started to ask after her, but she squeezed my hand to stop me. I faced her wide eyes. She was terrified. She sported a new deep green bruise on her arm. A bite mark that bled green blood. Gently, I reached for her—

Blind. I went blind. A bright white light enveloped us. We screamed. It burned and scoured our eyes.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious. Or what happened while I recovered. It was slow. The smell of snow surrounding me pierced my lethargy. A blurry film covered my sore eyes when I managed to open them. A shadow loomed over me, a shapeless blob.

In a deep voice, it assured, “Now they will never find you.”

[SS]: We know now that Razor meant Zero’s agents would never find Korac. In hindsight, I should have realized what happened to the Caprent girl before I asked. It’s just so horrible to think about. I apologize to him, and he kisses it away.

Who wants to dwell on Inanis? That eight million, three hundred thousand children disappeared in a single day. Transported to Enki, according to Razor. Pehton told me that Remorse confessed to it. And that Imminent subjected them to Hell.

“There are things worse than death, and we put them through all of it. Abandon hope of ever seeing them again. Or of recognizing what remains.”

Who knows? Maybe we’ll find them. Maybe the special huggy magic of the Shadow will see us salvaging them. For the first time in such a very long time, I find myself wanting to hope. To let myself have hope. Obviously Sagan’s influence and a side effect of your leadership, sprite.

Before we come to that, we must continue to wade through my past where hope rarely sparked.

The day Inanis stole the children of Gait, I was the only survivor under the age of sixteen. The powers-that-be swiftly took me away from that cesspool. Where I was never a person. Only a contaminant. In my reflections, I can only call that one girl my people, but I hesitate to call Gait my home without inflecting some truly heavy sarcasm.

I knew I’d return one day, but never did I think I would be a prisoner.