Without a word, Lila pressed her palm against the window, signaling to the driver. For the first time in months, her desire was unmistakable. She wanted to go out.

The chauffeur hesitated but, after a quick nod from Adrian, he opened the door. Lila stepped out, her patent leather shoes clicking softly against the pavement. She crossed the square until she stood before the barefoot girl.

The stranger smiled shyly. “My name’s Zuri,” she whispered. “This isn’t just honey. My grandma said it gives hope. It helps you speak what’s trapped inside.” She held out the jar with trembling fingers.

Lila blinked, uncertain. Could this possibly be true?

She took the jar, lifted it to her lips, and sipped.

The honey coated her throat, burning and sweet at once. Her chest tightened. And then—like a door opening in the dark—a fragile sound slipped past her lips.