THE sun had dipped low by the time the truck finally rolled to a stop in front of the house. If it could be called that.

Xaniyah peered out the dusty window at the two-story building with its peeling paint and cracked pillars. It stood at the edge of a winding path bordered by dense woods. Not much noise out here, except for the occasional chirp of crickets and the croak of distant frogs. It was a stark contrast to the city where the buzz of life never really slept.

She stepped out of the ...