The guard shook his head before Nina finished. “No press. No interviews.” Behind him, the orphanage rose in careful brick and iron, windows shuttered like eyes that refused to meet hers. She showed her press badge anyway. He smiled. “We are a protected space.” Protected felt a lot like sealed.
Nina stepped away, pretending to scroll her phone. The twins were supposed to be one small part of her new series on broken systems. Three weeks until the funding vote and her season deadline. She was already behind. She was about to leave when a thin voice said, “Do not.”
Nina turned fully. “What?” The woman smiled, tired but sure. “Because I know the twins.” She recited, clear as a date, “Case number four one two seven dash B. Tuck and Mira. They like to stand near the right-hand fence corner.” Who was this woman with wild hair, and how did she know all this?