Then I see her eyes widen as she picks up what I've heard—it’s the faint sound of whimpering, of a child crying. And then, so quiet I almost think I've imagined it, a small voice calls out."Mama?"My heart immediately churns and leaps with an ache.“It's Lina,” I gasp, already moving.Mrs. Thompson calls out for me to wait, but I can't.I race down the stairs and my daughter's cries grow louder with each step. At the bottom, in a narrow hallway lined with heavy metal doors, I press my ear against each one, listening desperately.“Lina?”“Lina, baby, where are you?”“Mama?”It's coming from the last door on the left.I rush to it, yanking frantically at the handle, but it won't budge.“Lina? Sweetheart, can you hear me?”“Mama!” Her voice is clearer now, filled with hope and fear in equal measure.“It's okay, baby. I'm here. I'm going to get you out.”I turn to Mrs. Thompson, who's caught up with me.“We need to break it down,” I gesture at the door.She nods quickly then says, “Lina,
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