One little girl, no older than six, was clutching a small stuffed rabbit with a torn ear.

She was shivering violently.

“Can you walk?” I asked Rachel.

“Yes,” she said, pushing herself up from the cot. “But the children are weak. They haven’t had water since yesterday.”

“We need to move now,” I said. “The harbor is crawling with Kane’s men, but I have a way out through the water side.”

“Through the blizzard?” she asked, looking at the small, frosted porthole.

“It’s our only shot,” I said.

I knelt in front of the little girl with the rabbit.

“What’s your name?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

“Mia,” she whispered.

“Mia, I’m going to get you out of here,” I said. “But you have to be very quiet. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded slowly, tucking her face into the stuffed rabbit.

I stood up and faced the other children.

“All of you, stand up,” I said. “Keep the blankets wrapped tight. Hold hands.”

They scrambled to their feet, their small boots clicking on the metal floor.

I turned back to Rachel.