“I think you’ll love your new home,” the soldier smirks as he roughly holds my arm, pulling me down the dark, musty hall. “Stop dragging your feet,” he comments and yanks me along, causing me to trip.

“Hey, you okay?” Mom grabs my other arm and helps me stand up. The guard holding her arm is a little more lenient and only gently tugs her along but the momentum helps keep me upright as well. I think the guard can tell Mom is not strong at this moment. Neither of us ...