A single strip of yellow hall light fell across the dark linoleum, lighting up the bottom shelf where four tall metal cans of peaches sat next to a fifty-pound sack of flour.

Lucy was huddled in the tight corner between the lowest shelf and the wall.

Her little feet were tucked beneath her red velvet dress, which had a torn cuff dangling from the left sleeve by three white threads.

She was hugging her red plush rabbit tight against her chest, her chin buried in its soft cloth body.

“Lucy,” I said, sinking to my knees on the linoleum.

She didn’t flinch.