Chapter 15 – Mapping Shadows
Ever since reading the red file, Thomas felt a quiet fire building in his chest. Fear was there, yes—but it was no longer dominant. Replaced by something colder. Sharper.
Determination.
He knew now that Catherine's smiles were a mask. That her gentle touches, her soft laughter—none of it was real. Not toward him. Not toward any of them.
So Thomas began to do what he did best.
Observe.
Each day, after his morning routines—feeding the toddlers, reading aloud for the younger children, pretending to struggle over math problems he could solve in seconds—he turned his attention to the adults.
Catherine moved on a schedule. Breakfast in the staff room at 7:30. A check-in with the cook at 8. Paperwork in her office from 8:30 to 10. Then she would walk the main hall with her clipboard, stopping to speak with children in the six-to-ten range. Always those between six and ten.
By mid-afternoon, she was usually in her office again, often alone. Sometimes, a visitor would come. A man in a brown coat. Once, a tall woman with thick sunglasses. Never introduced. Never spoken of again.
Thomas made notes in a small book he kept hidden behind a loose brick near the base of the garden wall. He documented patterns—timing, faces, names overheard. He tracked when doors were locked and when they were not. He noted which staff walked past which hallway and at what time.
Then he began drawing.
On torn notebook pages, he began sketching out the web of names he had encountered. From the red file. From overheard whispers. From memos swiped with Reach during brief moments of luck.
"Dr. Weller" – always referenced alongside health records and 'assessment intervals.' Likely medical.
"East Contact" – mentioned twice next to names with high value tags. External buyer? Or trafficker?
"Handler V" – always connected to "transport" or "escort." Possibly the one physically removing children.
Thomas linked these names with lines. Arrows. Question marks. It wasn't complete, but a shape was forming—a structure. A system.
And it was big.
He didn't just want to survive it. He wanted to understand it. To find where it ended.
To break it.
By the end of the week, he had formed a working theory: the children were being sorted, assessed, and transferred based on assigned value tiers. Those with physical beauty, intelligence, or docile temperaments were prioritized.
He watched as Erin—whose older brother Leon had vanished—was taken aside for a "private check-up." Erin was eight. Bright eyes. Very photogenic. Catherine smiled too much that day.
Thomas caught Erin afterward and asked lightly, "Did they tell you where Leon went yet?"
Erin shook her head. "No. But they told me I'll get to meet new people soon. Grown-ups, not from here."
Thomas's hand clenched beneath the table.
Back in his hiding place, he unfolded the page with his network sketch. It was covered in ink, layers of deduction and guesswork. But something was still missing.
Where?
Where did they go?
He returned to the file room two nights later, searching maps, vehicle logs, anything. And finally—buried in the bottom drawer of a cabinet marked "Logistics"—he found it.
A worn envelope with faded stamps. Inside, several folded travel sheets marked with initials and dates. One caught his eye:
Transfer – Departure: June 9
Vehicle: Marked Private – Night Pickup (2:10 AM)
Destination: Gateley Industrial (Temporary Holding)
Contact: V / Escort Dr. W
Gateley Industrial...
Thomas made a mental note. He would need to memorize a route. No map-taking, no copies. Everything had to live in his head.
Because when they came for him, he would go.
And once inside the heart of the system—he would find a way to tear it down from within.
That night, lying in his bed with the moonlight cutting thin silver lines across the room, Thomas closed his eyes.
He didn't think about magic. Or Hogwarts. Or wand sparks or glowing runes in the air.
He thought about cages. About the children who never got to say goodbye. About faces turned into price tags.
And then he thought of fire. Quiet, burning fire.
"I thought magic would be my greatest secret. But here…"
"…survival comes first."