Westbridge. “T-that’s… that’s n-not what I meant…”Chloe stammered, her voice was barely a whisper. It was cracked, thin, and uneven, hanging in the stifling air of the precinct lobby.Nobody moved. The usual background hum of the station…phones ringing, keys clacking, officers murmuring, seemed to have stopped entirely.Damien just stared at her.His expression didn't register shock, nor did he look angry. His expression was much worse. His eyes were entirely hollow, a flat, frozen void that made the temperature in the room feel like it had plummeted ten degrees. Standing right beside him, Amelia felt a sudden, physical weight settle over her chest. The sheer intensity of his stillness was terrifying.Chloe took a sharp, ragged breath, her shoulders flinching backward. “Damien, please. Listen to me…”Damien didn’t let her finish, with his eyes away from her, he pulled his phone from his pocket, his movements devoid of any hesitation, and pressed a single speed dial.“Daniel.”Dan

White Walls.Daniel lowered his voice, leaning in toward Damien. “We’ve been keeping eyes on it for the last ten minutes. No movement outside. But look at this…one of the primary exterior security cameras over the back entrance was completely ripped out of its housing.”Damien’s eyes narrowed. “How recent?”“Fresh wires exposed to the rain,” Daniel replied grimly. “A few hours at most.”Damien’s expression darkened, a shadow passing over his features. ‘We’re late. God dammit, we’re late.’ he mused within himself.Marcus tapped the screen of his tablet, the blue light illuminating his tightened face. “The main city grid doesn’t even cover this block anymore, guys. The power’s running through a completely isolated, private generator system buried deep underground. Whoever’s running this circus has some serious, deep-pocketed funding.”“Let’s go,” was Damien’s retort.He didn't wait for a tactical plan. He started walking directly toward the main glass double doors.Daniel sighed under

Found.A tiny, fleeting silhouette, that of a child.The shadow darted past the rusted second-floor railing so quickly it almost didn’t feel real.But Damien, whose senses were heightened at the moment, caught it.And the second he did, something violent flashed across his face.“Aaron!”His voice cracked through the dark corridor like a gunshot.The footsteps upstairs stumbled, then stopped.Daniel’s flashlight beam snapped upward toward the second-floor walkway, catching the outline of a small figure standing rigidly behind the railing.The child froze completely, he was thin, barefooted and utterly shaking.Damien was already moving before anyone else reacted, he bolted out of the underground room, taking the rusted stairs two at a time with terrifying speed.“Damien …” Daniel started, but Damien wasn’t listening anymore, his mind solely on something else.The child whimpered the second Damien reached the top landing, his eyes going wide.He spun around and started running again.F

First Doubt.“I’m not Aaron.”Amelia’s hand stopped dead against the mattress.The boy blinked up at her, rubbing a fist against his eye before rolling over, pulling the heavy comforter up to his ears.Amelia stood frozen. The hum of the city outside seemed to fade into a sharp, heavy silence.Amelia froze beside the bed, looking down at him.Her heartbeat thudded once against her ribs.Maybe you’re overthinking it.He’s exhausted. Traumatized. Half asleep.Children say strange things all the time.Right?“Okay,” she whispered.She reached down, tucked the edge of the blanket over his small shoulder, and waited.He didn’t move, his breathing slowing into a steady, rhythmic pattern.Amelia stepped backward, flipped off the bedside lamp, and closed the door with a soft click.But even after she shut the door behind her and walked to her room…the words stayed stuck inside her head.‘I’m not Aaron.’Amelia barely slept.Every single time she closed her eyes, she heard that sleepy little

The Wrong One. Amelia stared at the stitched letters until her vision blurred, the quiet hum of the washing machine filling the narrow room.Eli.Not Aaron.Her fingers tightened around the tiny green shirt, the rough fabric digging into her palms.She tried to find a logical explanation. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe the facility mixed up the children's clothes during laundry days, or maybe…maybe it belonged to a friend he had made inside. But deep down, she knew she was making excuses.The memory of his sleepy voice echoed clearly in her mind, alongside the subtle hesitations that happened every single time someone called him Aaron.He always looked around first, pausing as if trying to remember to play a part.A floorboard creaked outside in the hallway. Amelia startled, quickly folding the shirt into a tight square and pressing it against her chest just as Damien appeared in the doorway. He looked completely drained. His dark hair was messy, and heavy shadows sat beneath his