Chapter 19 – Echo
The night was still.
So still that Thomas could hear Johnny's soft breathing from the bunk below. Daisy, curled up on the top bunk, had long fallen asleep, clutching her worn-out stuffed bunny—the one Sister Mary had given her. But Thomas remained awake. Cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, mind open.
He wasn't daydreaming. He was feeling.
Over the past few weeks, he had begun sensing something new—something that wasn't quite magic in the traditional sense, but undeniably powerful. In moments of calm, especially before sleep, the world seemed to loosen its grip. He could sense the layout of rooms he wasn't in. He knew when Catherine passed by the corridor, even if her footsteps made no sound. He felt when someone moved a chair in the dining hall, even from several meters away.
And then, one night, he tried reaching further.
He called the sensation Echo.
It wasn't sight. It wasn't sound. It was more like the awareness of a bat, catching faint disturbances in space—not through sonic signals, but through something deeper. He didn't need to send out any pulses. Instead, the world whispered back to him.
He simply listened.
At first, his reach extended only about ten meters—just far enough to sense movement in the next room. He could feel the outline of furniture, a window being opened, the subtle rustling of another child shifting in bed.
But as he practiced, his reach expanded. Twenty meters. Fifty. And then, one night, lying still, his body relaxed and mind clear, his perception bloomed outward like ripples in water.
Five hundred meters.
And there it was: Catherine's office. A quiet, locked room at the far end of the property. Through Echo, he could trace the heavy desk, the curved leather chair, the locked cabinets. The images were fuzzy, like half-formed sketches, but real. Real enough.
He documented everything in his secret notebook—hidden beneath the loose floorboard in the abandoned storeroom.
Ability Name: Echo
Category: Spatial Perception – Passive & Active
Description: The ability to sense the presence, shape, and movement of objects and living beings within a certain radius. Does not rely on traditional senses. Passive when relaxed, active when focused.
Visual Effect (in Thomas's mind): A dim, three-dimensional image, pulsing gently with spatial waves. Movement creates ripples.
Strengths:
Functions without line of sight
Works in darkness or through barriers
Ideal for reconnaissance and navigation
Limitations:
Dulls if mind is stressed or body is tired
Small object detail fades at distance
Difficult to use while casting other spells
Effective Range:
Reflex (unfocused): ~20 meters
Focused and calm: Up to ~500 meters
Maximum range tested: ~480–500 meters
Echo changed everything.
With this ability, Thomas resumed his investigation, one file at a time.
Each night, when Catherine's office was empty and the rest of the building quiet, he would lie still in bed, activate Echo, and then use Reach—his spell to instantly teleport objects to him. He would pull a single file from Catherine's desk, review it quickly, copy down key information, then send it back.
One at a time. Never too often. Always cautious.
Within two weeks, he had retrieved and read:
Internal memos detailing market interest for specific "types" of children.
A logistics form labeled "P56-E – Transfer Protocols."
An evaluation file marked "Golden Tier – Preliminary List."
One document chilled him more than the rest.
A folder labeled "Premium Potential – T, F, A"
He read slowly, heart racing.
T: Thomas – Age 6 – "Cognitive capacity combined with aesthetic symmetry. High future value."
F: Fiona – Age 9 – "Exotic facial structure, ideal height and proportions."
A: Alex – Age 8 – "Exceptional facial symmetry, above-average intelligence."
They were marked for future acquisition. Ranked as Golden Tier, the highest category in what Thomas now fully understood: a well-organized, human trafficking operation.
He was no longer speculating. This was real. It had systems. Procedures. Buyers.
He wasn't an orphan under evaluation. He was a product under surveillance.
Then, one night, something new appeared in his Echo.
On Catherine's desk lay a thick envelope—he could feel the seal, even without seeing it.
He pulled it toward him with Reach.
Inside was a letter:
Confirmation Notice
Transfer Date: 7 Days from Issue
Selected Children: F, T, A
Assigned Destination: East-7 Processing Hub
Escort: Private Unmarked Vehicle
His breath caught. Seven days.
Thomas stared at the letter for a long moment before returning it carefully.
Seven days until one—or all—of them were taken.
He stared at the ceiling that night, listening to the gentle breathing of the others. Johnny, who used to laugh all the time, now barely spoke. Daisy still smiled, but her eyes had lost their sparkle. The new children—quiet, wide-eyed, clinging to any warmth they could find—looked to him now like they once had to Sister Mary.
He had become the grown-up, in a way. The warm presence, the protector.
Every night now, he told them stories before bed. Some real, some invented. He wrapped them in fantasy and wonder, giving them something gentle to carry into their dreams. They deserved that. They all did.
And if Catherine thought she could take that from them—take him, or any of them—then she was mistaken.
He whispered the words to himself as his eyes finally closed.
"If they come for me..."
"They've chosen the wrong child."