After she left, I rummaged through the bag. There were four emergency rations and three bottles of a green liquid with a note attached. It read: ‘This is for the girl as she has no teeth. The consequence of the genetic alterations they made to her.’ The little girl’s eyes sparkled with joy. She looked at me, then at the bottles, moving her gaze back and forth. With anticipation, she wiggled her feet against my chest, eagerly stretched her arms out for a bottle and I placed it in her hands and she wasted no time in consuming it, as if she were a tiny child. As she drank, my hand caressed her back.

She was about halfway through, barely keeping her eyes open, as she looked at me, pushing the bottle away a little and snuggled against my chest. She gazed at me, her eyes asking if it was safe. You can go to sleep. We’re safe; She rested her head on my shoulder and fell asleep. After shaking the military ration, it started expanding. The smell was breathtaking. Even if it was just a military ration, it was like eating a gourmet meal. The sun’s glow faded, glinting shelves lost their sparkle as colder temperatures rolled in. The gust was sharp and unforgiving.

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After putting everything back in the bag and swinging it over my shoulder. Standing up with the girl held in my arms. A folder fell out of the bag, spilling its contents. It included her medical, school, attendance, intelligence quotient, and her name: Mia. I thought back to my foreign languages class. The name Mia means ‘wished-for child’. A smirk rested on my face, thinking about the irony of the situation. The plummeting temperatures brought me back to reality. If we didn’t get warm soon, we would die of hypothermia.