She's three when people start trying to kill her, and fall apart.
She's three when she's found; she's three when she's secured and contained and protected. She's three when men in blindfolds and wetsuits bring her food and toys, when what's left of her family talks to her through a phone and holds back tears. She's three when her abilities are studied, carefully, by more men in blindfolds and wetsuits, carefully applying scalpels to numbed skin and taking notes as they feel cuts appear on their own bodies.
She's three when the Foundation's budget for hydrofluoric acid is running out. She's three when the dragon escapes and escapes and escapes and escapes -
Private
to
Public