Jagged shards of glass lined the window. Jetta gestured at my crowbar and mimed wrapping something around it. I nodded at her and took off my scarf. The thick wool made a sleeve for the crowbar and I cleared the glass from the frame. Some shards tinkled to the floor. Each time I chewed on the inside of my cheek, waiting. If anything was inside, I wasn’t making enough noise to attract attention.

Carefully, I placed my gloved hands on the window and eased myself inside.

The sound of sobbing filled the air.

I froze, paralyzed. Some of them had learned to duplicate sounds. I had seen five men torn apart, drawn into a trap by the wail of a baby that didn’t exist. There weren’t enough of us left to not give aid if we could but I didn’t want to die either.

Behind me I heard a rattle of metal against metal and saw that Jetta was having some trouble getting into the window. I motioned for her to stop and I put a finger to my lips. The motion made the floorboard beneath me creak.

Abruptly the sobbing cut off.