The Midnight Gang Direct

He tapped his chest, just over his heart.

“What’s this?” the old man grumbled. “A mutiny?” The Midnight Gang

Because the Midnight Gang wasn’t a place. It was a promise: No one fights the night alone. He tapped his chest, just over his heart

Their leader was a wiry, sharp-eyed boy named Tom, who had been a resident of the third-floor long-term ward for eleven months—long enough to know which floorboards groaned and which door locks were broken. His lieutenants were Molly, a girl with a cloud of frizzy hair and a plaster cast on her left leg, and Raj, a quiet, watchful boy who hadn’t spoken a word since his operation, but who could pick any lock in the building with a bent paperclip and a calm focus. It was a promise: No one fights the night alone

“You don’t have to go,” he said quietly.