Chapter 5 - THE GIRL BEHIND THE GLASS
Dr. Voss removed her hand from my elbow.
“Locked is an unfortunate word, Mr. Valenti.”
“Then open the door.”
“Some of our students have difficulty with overstimulation.”
“Does overstimulation require sealed windows?”
Her eyes sharpened.
“You clearly have concerns. I would be happy to address them through the foundation's board.”
“I asked to see a child.”
“And I'm asking you to respect the privacy of vulnerable students.”
Detective Torres stood beside me without speaking.
She understood something I did not want to accept.
We couldn't simply drag children out of a building because I distrusted the woman running it.
We needed evidence strong enough to hold up after the doors were opened.
And Voss knew that.
I left without touching her.
That restraint cost me more than she would ever understand.
Outside, Torres stopped beside my car.
“Did you see the girl clearly?”
“Yes.”
“Could you describe her?”
I did.
Seven years old.
Light brown hair.
Blue sweater.
A small scar near her left eyebrow.
Torres wrote everything down.
“I'll request an immediate welfare inspection and check whether this facility has authorization to house children.”
“Request?”
“Luca, I'm not going to promise a raid without grounds a judge will accept.”
“There was a child asking for help.”
“And I'm going to find her.”
She looked me directly in the eye.
“But if you send your men into that building, you could destroy our chance of protecting every child inside.”
I hated her answer.
I knew she was right.
When I returned home, Lily and Theo were sitting on the kitchen floor.
Marta had spread colored pencils around them.
Lily was drawing Cookie wearing a crown.
Theo was arranging pencils into perfectly straight rows.
I knelt beside him.
“Theo, do you remember a girl with brown hair and a little mark near her eyebrow?”
His hand stopped.
“June.”
“June?”
He nodded.
“She gives me paper.”
“Why?”
He folded a sheet into a small triangle.
Then he slid it toward me.
“That's how you ask.”
“For help?”
He nodded again.
“Talking gets you in trouble.”
I looked at Lily.
She had stopped drawing.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “did somebody hurt Theo?”
I couldn't lie to her.
“Somebody treated him very badly.”
Her small face tightened.
“Then they were mean.”
“Yes, princess.”
She reached for Theo's hand.
“You can talk here.”
Theo looked at her.
He seemed uncertain whether to believe it.
A few minutes later, I brought out the silver ankle band.
Dr. Salazar had removed it, but Theo still flinched at the sight.
I placed it far away from him.
“Do you know what E07 means?”
He whispered, “Echo seven.”
“What's Echo?”
“Remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“Whatever they show you.”
He touched his forehead.
“Numbers. Faces. Stories. Things people want hidden.”
My chest tightened.
“Who wants them hidden?”
He looked toward the window.
“People who pay.”
At first, I thought he was repeating something meaningless.
Then I remembered my own financial records.
Theo had read a newspaper with impossible precision.
Solved a Rubik's Cube in seconds.
Multiplied numbers without hesitation.
But he'd struggled to feed himself.
Someone had spent years developing one part of his mind while neglecting everything else a little boy needed.
And apparently, someone was willing to pay for the result.
That evening, Detective Torres returned with an update.
Meridian was authorized as an educational research facility.
It was not licensed to operate a residential children's program.
The charitable records listed six children receiving intensive tutoring.
No residential enrollment.
No overnight care.
Yet Theo had described sleeping there.
And I had seen June behind a sealed window.
Torres also discovered that Aperture's investors included several private intelligence brokers.
One name appeared in connection with a recent inquiry into surveillance systems used by my shipping companies.
My legitimate businesses.
My private accounts.
My security arrangements.
This wasn't simply a cruel educational experiment.
Children were being trained to memorize information wealthy adults wanted to keep secret.
And my own household had become part of their business.
At dinner, a courier delivered a heavy cream envelope from Meridian.
An invitation to a private educational assessment.
Beautifully printed.
Embossed with gold lettering.
Miss Lily Valenti.
Special Scholarship Evaluation.
Tomorrow, 12:00 p.m.
There was a handwritten note at the bottom.
Your wife believed in recognizing exceptional children. We hope you will honor her wishes.
Beneath the signature, almost invisible under the gold seal, were three characters.
E08.
Lily read her name aloud.
“Daddy, is this a school?”
I folded the invitation.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Then why do they want me?”
May you like
I looked at my daughter's trusting face.
And realized the woman behind those seven windows had just invited my little girl to become her next experiment.
