"Yeah. I mean...he might be a year older or younger, I didn't ask. But he's right out of a crowd of middle schoolers. I've been watching. He's not the only one."

There was a hard note to Murphy's voice. He ignored his breakfast, the joy and novelty of proper food paling in comparison to the fact that there were kids here. Real kids. Living, breathing kids that had lives outside of this nightmare. The ex-con swallowed hard and pushed his food away, frustrated and heartsick.

"I'm not watching anymore kids die. We've got to do something."