*Olivia*

I rocked Elio to sleep, singing to him quietly. Since his return, he’d had trouble going to bed at night. I glanced at the window, moonlight streaming through the new bars across it, and wished I could explain to him all the security measures that we’d put in.

My singing faltered, and I swallowed. Elio clutched at my shirt. No, I didn’t want that. I wished my son didn’t have to fear going to sleep in case he woke up, drugged, in a strange location ...