I watch them a moment, the small crowd of kids, as they talk among themselves. How can I do what I know I need to, send them to their deaths so I can ensure they never live this life at all?

The dog's wet nose against my hand startles me out of my rigor and drives me forward, into their circle. Ever meets my eyes, hers steady, unjudging, open. She knows what I'm going to say already.

"We need to move quickly." I crouch in the center of the circle, hands dangling over my ...