Lyra stretched her slender arms above her head as she blinked open her green eyes. Her hair, tangled and dirty, framed her pale face. Smiling she glanced beside her to the rag-doll peeking out of the partially open backpack.
"I think we will find him here, Kitty" her lips parting in a wide joyful grin.
Lyra rose to her feet quickly and silently, moved to the far corner, and relieved her bladder on the floor before gathering her things and heading for the hall. She tugged her dolly from her pack and gave it a squeeze. The black button, recently sewn on, was crusty and she picked at the dark threads. Her brows furrowed in displeasure.
"Bruce lied about Keylin. He didn't deserve to have this button."
Her frown faded and her eyes gleamed with childish delight. "He said I was too old for dolls, but without you I will never find my brother" her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper as she tucked the doll back into her pack "He sure talked a lot..... until I used his tongue for thread."
She stepped into the hall and paused to get her bearings. Looking to the left as she felt a strange tug deep inside her belly, she began to head down the corridor with all the confidence of a thirteen year old who isn't afraid of death. One way or another she would find Keylin. He was her twin, they were meant to be together either alive or dead. It didn't matter to her.
