Emma lay in the dark, her Senior Agent's words haunting her, shattering any hopes of sleep after her first month on the job.

Simple words. Words she would have to intone in a very few short weeks, once her 'local orientation training' was done.

Goosebumps on her arms as she replayed the scene yet again in her mind.

A nice couple, a nice apartment, even the weather was nice…but those words…

'Njeri Kwembe, by the Authority of the Dishonesty, Deviance and Violence Laws, we have determined this subject to be capable of Violence Against Citizenry, and, as such, the child is to be sent for processing. You have one minute to hand the subject into our custody, or lethal force will be employed.'

The look of abject despair on the face of that poor man, the guttural scream that came from his wife, arms tightening around the infant, who, unaware, was still contentedly suckling at his mother's breast, until that primal scream.

Emma reached for her sidearm, sickened that her training had overruled her humanity, the need to comfort this couple, shield the baby from harm.

Instead, she found herself looking along the sights, Mr Kwembe's forehead filling her vision. Red dot unwavering between his eyes.

A fraction of an inch, a little more pressure, the trigger edged backwards, Emma swore she could hear the sound of oiled metal parts moving against each other.

'Please?'

That simple word. So full of emotion.

Emma lowered her weapon, holstered it, much to the annoyance of her tutor, held out her empty hands.

'Mrs Kwembe, ma'am, you have no choice here, I'm sorry. Time to say goodbye, we'll look after the little one, I promise, he'll be treated with respect.'

The woman locked eyes with Emma, saw the shared pain in her eyes, felt her empathy, knew she would be no good to her other children if she was dead.

'You promise me, Lady! You promise my Chima, my little Angel, will feel no pain?'

'I promise you, honestly I do!'

Emma felt the warmth of the child on her chest, even through her vest. She allowed the weeping parents a moment, kisses, and prayers, then turned and left the room before her own tears fell.

Handing over that baby at the processing unit, Emma felt so lost, felt she'd lied to the Kwembes. How would she know the baby, (Chima - the baby had a name - if not a future, she reminded herself in the hope of keeping her own humanity) was treated with gentleness once inside?

How could anyone equate what was happening inside with that stupid, shallow promise?

She ran to the nearest washroom and vomited out her pain.

A severe talking to.

She'd put herself, her colleagues, and the family in danger by her actions.

Unprofessional, emotional, unfit to work solo, probation extended for a further month.

At least she wouldn't have to utter those dreadful words just yet!

She looked at her coms, calculating the time difference. She might just catch him before his shift.

Two rings.

'Hey gorgeous! You're up late, was going to call you later, how's things?'

'Just missing you, needed to see that ugly mug!'

She sniffed back a tear, seeing the concern on his face, she tried a laugh.

'Sorry I called now, that face is enough to give anyone nightmares!'

'Come on, I know you just wanted to see me so you can dream about me! Look Em, sorry, but I've got to go, shift starts in ten. Call you tonight? Love you!'

'Be careful Luke, love you too….I just….'

But the screen was already blank.

Emma had never felt so alone.

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