A girl stood just inside the automatic doors. Fifteen, maybe. Long brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. She wore simple jeans and a faded grey sweatshirt, both a little too large. Her face was pale, dotted with faint freckles across her nose and cheeks. But it was her eyes that made Officer DeLuca’s breath catch—large, green, and utterly hollow.

The girl didn’t speak. She just stood there, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond the officer’s shoulder, as if seeing something else entirely. Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her sleeves.