Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza stood in the clinic hallway, replaying Aiyana’s words in her mind. Purple. White beads. One missing. She was in South Four. She helped me.
The bracelet bead Evan found at RR‑2 wasn’t just evidence. It belonged to a child Aiyana knew. A child who was still missing. Eliza felt the weight of that settle in her chest like a stone. She turned to the others. “We need to go back to RR‑2.”
Evan nodded immediately. “I’ll get the truck.”
Marianne frowned. “We have already cleared the site.”
Eliza shook her head. “We cleared it as a holding site. Not as a place connected to the South Rooms.”
Elijah’s expression darkened. “We missed something.”
Eliza nodded. “We missed her.”
###
Evan Blackhorse — Point of View
The drive back to RR‑2 was silent, the silence that wasn’t empty but full — full of urgency, full of dread, full of the knowledge that a child had been there, alive, helping Aiyana survive. Evan parked near the irrigation outbuilding and stepped out into the chilly night air. The symbol was still there — the quadrant, painted in rushed strokes.
But now it meant something different. Not just a holding site. A transfer point. A place where children moved between rooms, between levels, between lives. Evan swallowed hard.
“We’re not leaving until we find something,” he said.
###
Marianne Keeshig — Point of View
Marianne swept her flashlight across the dirt floor, retracing every step they’d taken before. Footprints. Scratches. The tarp pile. She crouched beside the spot where Evan had found the bracelet.
“Whoever she was,” Marianne murmured, “she was here recently.”
Elijah joined her. “And Aiyana said that they moved her.”
Marianne nodded. “Which means RR‑2 wasn’t her ultimate stop.” She lifted the tarp again, searching for anything they’d missed. Perhaps a scrap of fabric. A bead. A hair tie. Something. But the corner was empty. Too empty.
Marianne’s stomach tightened. “Someone cleaned this.”
Elijah frowned. “By whom?”
Marianne stood slowly. “Not by us.”
###
Elijah Greyhawk — Point of View
Elijah crossed to the back wall, where the crawl-space tunnel opened toward the canal. He crouched and swept his flashlight through the passage. Dirt lined the floor in fresh scrapes and hand marks. Someone had crawled through there recently—and it had not been them or any animal. He called out, “Eliza.”
She joined him, kneeling beside the opening. Elijah pointed. “Someone came through here after we left.”
Eliza’s jaw tightened. “They came back.”
Elijah nodded, "The purpose is to clean. To remove evidence. To erase her.”
Eliza’s voice was low. “Or to move someone else.”\
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza rose slowly and scanned the room again, no longer seeing a crime scene but a map. Aiyana’s memory of the bracelet. An older girl in South Four. Red hallway lights. Clicking under the door. The movement between rooms. RR‑2 wasn’t just a holding site. It was a transfer node. They staged children there before moving them to the multi-level facility, BR-12.
Eliza turned to the others. “This site connects to the South Rooms,” she said. “The bracelet bead and the crawl space prove it. The cleaning shows it.”
Evan exhaled. “They’re still using it.”
Marianne added, “And they know we found it.”
Elijah’s voice was grim. “Which means they’re watching us.”
Eliza nodded. “And that means we’re running out of time.”
###
Evan Blackhorse — Point of View
Evan stepped outside, scanning the tree line, the canal, the empty prairie stretching into darkness. He felt it — the sense of being observed. Not paranoia. Pattern. Leah’s warning echoed in his mind: They know you’re closing in. They’re reacting to you. You’re exposed.
Evan turned back toward the outbuilding. “We need to move on BR‑12,” he said. “Soon.”
Eliza joined him. “We will.”
Evan looked at her. “And Hayes?”
Eliza exhaled slowly. “We'll bring him in,” she said. “But on our terms.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza looked back at the outbuilding one last time. The quadrant symbol, the crawlspace, and the empty corner where the bracelet bead had been. Aiyana’s friend had been here. This child who had protected her and taught her the rules. A child who had moved to South Four. A child who was still missing. Eliza whispered into the frosty night air: “We’re coming for you.”