Something had woken nine-year-old Lily Foyle?a thumping noise and a scream?there it was again, coming from the barn. She grasped her teddy bear for comfort and crept outside. Stars blazed in a black cavern of a sky. Her bare feet moved silently across grass wet with dew. She held her nose as she passed the pigpen, the stench was awful, she'd never got used to it. The pigs squelched in mud and grunted. The screams were getting louder now, shrill and full of terror. Lily was afraid; she knew something terrible was happening. Should she go back to the house? There was a sudden high-pitched squeal, like a pig makes at the slaughter. Curiosity won out. She crouched down by the broken slat in the barn door and peered in. There are some sights so horrible?so shocking?the human mind can't take them in. She was found the next day huddled in the woods unable to speak