Chapter 14 – The Red File
It was a rare mistake.
Thomas wasn't sure what had distracted Catherine—perhaps a phone call on the landline, or one of the staff needing her urgently—but for the first time, her office door was left slightly open. Unlocked. Empty.
The hallway was silent. The other children were busy with chores or games. Sister Mary was tending to the toddlers. The perfect window.
He slipped in.
The room felt sterile and controlled. Cabinets lined the far wall. A desk sat squarely under a window with heavy curtains. And there, in the middle of the desk, was a red folder. Bold. Untouched. Stamped in black letters:
CONFIDENTIAL
Thomas's heart pounded, but his hands moved steadily. He opened the folder.
The first page hit like a cold slap.
Subject: T-6
Name: [Redacted] – Male – Age: 5
Status: Under Observation
Initial Classification: Low-priority intake (abandoned infant – no familial traceable data). Re-evaluation initiated post-age 4 due to developmental indicators.
His eyes scanned faster.
Cognitive Function: Exceptionally high for age. Accelerated learning pattern across multiple disciplines.
Emotional Response: Mature, composed under pressure. Responsive to social cues.
Visual Assessment: High aesthetic value – facial symmetry score 9.4/10.
Speech Pattern: Clear, precise – reading level above national average.
Behavioral Note: High composure may mask deeper capabilities. Continue monitoring for unusual traits.
At the bottom was a bold marker:
Category Upgrade: Golden Tier Candidate – Premium Assessment Pending
There were pages behind it—images, charts, and summaries. One showed a side photo of him taken without his knowledge. Lines marked the distance between his eyes, the angle of his cheekbones, even the shape of his lips.
He found another page labeled:
Projected Transfer Potential – East Sector / Private Interests Only
His fingers trembled.
This wasn't about adoption.
No background checks. No family details. No legal forms.
Just measurements. Intelligence markers. Market projections.
He flipped one last page. In red ink:
Recommended for delay. Subject developing rapidly. Potential long-term value outweighs short-term sale.
Thomas stood still, clutching the folder, eyes wide.
They didn't see a child. They saw a product.
He closed the file carefully, setting everything back exactly as it was. No fingerprints. No evidence he'd been there.
As he slipped out of the office and closed the door silently behind him, his stomach turned.
So this was why Catherine had suddenly taken interest. Why she had smiled so gently. Why she asked about his dreams.
Not because she cared.
Because he was worth something.
Something expensive.
And if he wasn't careful, they'd take him—just like the others.