Hey!” Something poked Jessica’s shoulder, and she shrugged it away and rolled over, still half-asleep. “Hey, you okay?” Something poked her cheek, much harder, and she opened her eyes and looked up to see a ring of children surrounding her, staring with wide eyes. Jessica screamed.

Someone grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth, and she struggled to get away.

“You have to be quiet,” a desperate voice whispered, and she turned to face a red-haired girl of about seven, looking at her anxiously. “If you’re not quiet, it’ll come get you,” she explained.

Jessica sat up carefully and put a hand on her head; it felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and her sinuses were burning. “Not again.” Chloroform, or whatever that gas was.

“What?” the girl asked.

“Nothing,” Jessica said, looking at the frightened faces that surrounded her. There were four children in all, two boys and two girls: There was the young redheaded girl with freckles on her nose, and a stocky, African American boy of about the same age, who looked like he had been crying before she arrived. He was sitting cross-legged with a young Latina girl of three or four on his lap, hiding her face in his shirt. Her fine brown hair had all but come loose from two long braids down her back, each capped with a pink ribbon, and the matching pink shorts and T-shirt she wore were stained and filthy. The last little boy, a skinny blond kindergartener with a massive bruise on his forearm, hung back a little from the rest, his hair hanging over his face. They were all looking at her like they expected her to do something.

“What is this disgusting place?” Jessica wiped her hands on her shirt and shook out her hair as though it might be full of spiders. She stopped in midshake, and turned to the kids as though seeing them again for the first time. Her mouth hung open slightly.

“You’re the kids.” She gasped. “I mean, you’re the kids, the ones that were taken, and you’re alive!” She suddenly remembered the mother at the hospital. We have to find that kid and bring him home, Jessica had insisted to John, the words sounding hollow even to her own ears. Now the kids were standing right in front of her. It’s not too late to save you, she thought, filling her with new purpose. She looked at the little blond boy. “Are you Jacob?” she asked, her heart fluttering, and his eyes widened in response.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she said, trying to believe her own words. “I’m Jessica.” None of them answered her right away, instead glancing at one another, trying to reach some silent consensus. Leaving them to it, Jessica stood, surveying their surroundings.