Sam hoped they were doing the right thing. His gut twisted as he trailed Eleanor and Mandy down the corridor.

He’d never been to a security station before unless you counted the one time when he was a kid, and his mom had made him help carry a few trays of sandwiches into the station in Old Golden Heights. Someone was having a birthday, and his mom was catering. He remembered being intimidated by the hearty voices and all the uniforms, but he wasn’t there long enough to get a real sense of the place.

The station on the A level was quiet, with only two officers sitting, watching monitors.

Mandy headed straight for the middle-aged woman, bypassing the younger man who sat closer to the door. “I’d like to report an incident,” she said.

The woman looked up...

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