As we walked I felt apathy coil through me like anesthetic. The ragged edges of my mind grew quiet and even the place where She resided became still.

Kozlov has much to answer for, you being the last in a long line of offenses.

I stumbled to a halt. The voice was gentle in a way I had never known. Hidden behind the words I sensed echoes of the truth, flickers of memories and emotions. It was a level of communion I had not known existed. I didn’t know why, but it made me ache with loss, though not for long.

Tears stung my eyes and I realized then that I was being manipulated psychically. Self preservation tried to kick in, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe this time I would finally die and be free.

The woman stopped and turned to watch me. Then shook her head sadly and said aloud, “Not today little sister. Come, we have further still to go.”

My feet followed hers without my will, and I wondered why she was helping me.

I heard a young girl’s thin wail…I also remember Camp 32.