"Across the Great Divide"
an excerpt

The snow swirls thick around them as Mr. Austen reaches to push open the curling iron gates, and Sylvie cranes her neck for one last glimpse of freedom, that white, frozen expanse stretching out behind her. She swallows as Mr. Austen leads her on through the gates and they swing closed behind her. Despite the fact that they are now walking up the grey concrete steps Sylvie still can’t bring herself to look forward, like when they had given her the shots earlier that day, and she could only stand it by offering up her arm and refusing to watch. If she thought about what was actually happening she wouldn’t be able to stand it, so she opened her eyes wide and fixed them on the blurring snow. Then they were at the door and she knew, suddenly, that there would be no going back. Her heart was pounding in her ears and all the sounds around them seemed horribly intensified; she could hear the sound of Mr.Austen’s feet shifting from side to side, the soft rush of the snow, her own panicked breathing, and then, worst, far worst, the door creaking slowly open.