Peeking out from behind the cart was a child. A small, silent girl, no older than ten, with enormous, dark eyes and a cascade of black hair. She clutched a worn sketchbook to her chest.

Anna’s frown deepened. “This is not a daycare. You are not permitted to bring your family into a secure facility.”

Luis’s face flushed with a mixture of fear and shame. “She is my daughter, Maya. My sitter, she canceled. My wife… she is gone. I cannot leave her alone. She is… she is very quiet, Ms. Vance. She no talk. Never.” He motioned to his own mouth. “Non-verbal. She just draws.”

Anna’s patience snapped. “That is your problem, not mine. Take her and leave. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am. We go.” Luis grabbed his daughter’s hand. But Maya, who had been staring past Anna, slipped from his grasp. She walked, as if in a trance, straight into Anna’s office.

“Maya! No!” Luis whispered, horrified.