Brock Silver POV
I barely dodged the rock that flew at my head as I reached the nursery building. A small voice yelled from somewhere in the darkness.
"Stay back! We won't let you take any more of us!"
"Wait!" I called out, raising my hands. "I'm not managed! It's me, Brock!"
A tiny figure emerged from behind an overturned table - little Emma, only six years old, carrying another rock ready to throw.
"Prove it," she asked with the fierceness of someone much older.
"Emma, remember when you broke your arm last month? I carried you to the doctor because your mom was working. You cried on my shoulder the whole way."
Her tough expression collapsed. "Brock? Is it really you?"
"It's really me." I knelt down to her level. "Are there others hiding here?"
"Lots of us," Emma whispered. "The glowing-eyed people tried to catch us, but Elder Iris showed us the secret place."
My heart leaped. If Elder Iris was here and free, she might have answers we badly needed.
