I dreamed.

Dr. Kozlov sat behind his desk talking to a little girl. She looked about five, with shifting green-blue eyes.

He watched her a moment and said, “Valentina, why do we not leave the Camp?”

She frowned and recited, “The outside world does not understand people like us. Only inside the Camp are we safe.”

“That is correct. And what happens when we are caught outside of the shelter of the Camp?”

Her reply was calm, “We spend time in isolation to reflect on our mistakes.”

No! I shouted, Not a little girl!

“Then I suggest you be on your way.”

Valentina’s brows furrowed, but she nodded and left. Once outside the office she looked up, at me, Who are you?

I woke up with a start, heart pounding. As I tried to calm my breathing I slowly noticed the smell of a campfire. Looking around, I found my gardening teacher sitting near me, sipping coffee.

“Why?” I asked.

Because your pain is still separate from you. I will help, she said, the space behind her voice still silent.