He found the room at the end of the hall. The young woman from the first bale was sitting up in bed, eating gelatin from a plastic cup. Her brother was in the chair next to her.
When Miller walked in, the room went silent. The woman’s eyes widened. She recognized him instantly: the man who had torn open her tomb and become an angel.
She didn’t speak English well, but she pushed the tray table aside and stood up, her legs still wobbly. She walked over to Miller and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his tactical vest.
«Thank you,» she sobbed. «Thank you. You… you saw us. No one sees us. But you saw.»
Miller awkwardly patted her back, his throat tight. He looked at the brother, who nodded slowly, a silent message of profound respect.
«I didn’t see you,» Miller said softly, though he knew she might not understand all the words. «He did.»
He showed her a picture of Duke on his phone. She smiled through her tears, touching the screen.
«Pero bueno. Good dog.»
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