Lilith stood by the window, watching Albert and Edwin disappear into the murky gloom outside. The door had barely clicked shut, yet an uneasy chill remained in the air, creeping up her spine like a whisper of something she couldn't quite name. Things were changing—she could feel it. Not in the sudden, obvious way that tragedies announce themselves, but in the slow, creeping shift of something unraveling.

  The moments when she glimpsed Albert's softer side were growing fewer, replaced by an impatience that hardened his once-gentle features. A darkness had begun to settle in his eyes, quiet but unrelenting, like a storm forming at the horizon.

  Weeks passed, and Lilith began to notice something troubling about Edwin. The boy who once raced into the classroom with an infectious grin, bursting with energy and laughter, now walked with measured, hesitant steps. His once bright eyes had dulled, their lively spark replaced with something distant, something withdrawn. The bruises, at first, seemed harmless—scrapes from climbing trees, roughhousing with the other children. Edwin had always been adventurous, often returning with fresh scratches from his latest escapades.

  But these marks were different.

  Deep bruises marred his arms, the kind that didn't come from a simple fall. There were strange burns on his skin, welts that raised questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. And worse—scars. Small, deliberate incisions that had healed over but left their cruel evidence behind.

  Lilith’s stomach twisted in knots every time she saw him flinch when Albert raised a hand—not in anger, not to strike, but in gestures that had once meant comfort. A tousle of his hair, a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder—things that should have soothed Edwin now made him tense, his small frame stiffening as if bracing for something unseen. The change was undeniable. Edwin no longer threw himself into his father’s embrace the way he used to. Instead, he approached Albert with careful steps, watching him with guarded eyes.

  It was fear. She recognized it now.

  And once she did, she couldn't unsee it.

  She told herself not to interfere, not yet. But every time Edwin limped through the door, every time she caught him wincing as he lowered himself onto his seat, she felt the weight of her silence pressing heavier against her chest.

  Until one day, she couldn't hold back any longer.

  “Edwin,” she said gently, crouching beside him where he sat alone in the corner, away from the other children. “Are you alright?”

  He didn’t answer right away. His small hands gripped the edges of his sleeves, pulling them down as if that could erase the evidence etched into his skin. When he finally spoke, his voice was small, devoid of the warmth it once carried.

  “I’m fine, Miss Lilith.”

  A lie. She could hear it, feel it in the way his shoulders curled inward, in the way he refused to meet her gaze.

  “Where did you get these bruises?” she pressed, keeping her voice steady despite the way her heart pounded against her ribs.

  He shifted, uneasy. “I fell.”

  Her breath hitched. Not because of what he said—but because of how he said it. Like he had been taught those words. Like he had been told to say them.

  She wanted to believe it was all in her head, that she was overanalyzing a child’s misfortunes. But deep down, she knew better. She had seen it in the way he stiffened when Albert’s voice rang through the doorway, the way he cast his gaze downward when his father spoke to him. The bond that had once been filled with playfulness and affection had eroded into something else. Something silent. Something cold.

  The next few times Albert came to pick Edwin up, Lilith watched closely. Her eyes tracked the way Edwin moved to his father’s side, the stiffness in his posture, the way his fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to flinch. Albert still spoke with that same measured calm, but there was an edge now, a quiet sharpness that hadn't been there before. His smiles no longer reached his eyes.

  Then, the visits stopped altogether.

  At first, she told herself it was temporary. Perhaps Albert’s work had intensified, perhaps Edwin had simply outgrown the classroom. But as days bled into weeks, and weeks into months, the absence carved itself into the walls. The classroom, once filled with Edwin’s laughter, now felt unbearably quiet.

  She asked around, searching for answers, but all she received were whispers and hollow reassurances. “He’s safe,” they told her. “He’s well taken care of.”

  But she knew better.

  The silence spoke louder than their words ever could.

  Then, one evening, as she was cleaning up after another long day, the door creaked open.

  Albert.

  His presence filled the room instantly, commanding, suffocating. He never announced himself, but this time—this time, something was different.

  His face, usually so composed, was drawn tight, shadows pooling beneath his sharp eyes. The lines around his mouth were deeper, carved by stress, exhaustion, something else she couldn't place. His movements were precise, controlled, but his expression—

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  His expression was cold.

  Lilith set down the book she had been organizing, forcing her hands to remain steady. “Councilor,” she greeted, her voice measured. “What brings you here?”

  Albert studied her for a long moment before speaking. “I have an offer for you.”

  There was no warmth in his tone. No pleasantries, no familiar ease. Just cold calculation.

  “I’d like you to come work in the compound,” he continued, stepping closer. “Your skills are wasted here. With your background, you could be doing something far more meaningful. I could use someone like you.”

  Lilith’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t a request. It was something else. An invitation, wrapped in expectation.

  And then he said the words that made her breath catch in her throat.

  “You’ll see Edwin again.”

  The room around her blurred. For months, she had wondered where he was, if he was safe, if he was even—

  No. She wouldn’t let herself think that way.

  She swallowed hard, meeting Albert’s gaze. His eyes betrayed nothing.

  She had a choice to make.

  And something told her that if she said no, she might never see Edwin again.

  Lilith turned as the door creaked open, her pulse quickening at the sight of the man standing in the doorway.

  "Councilor," she greeted, the title foreign on her tongue when directed at him.

  Albert's presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. It had been weeks since she'd last seen him, and the silence between them was laden with unspoken questions. But there was only one that mattered.

  "Is everything alright?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  Albert didn't speak right away. He stood motionless, his sharp gaze sweeping across the dimly lit classroom as if memorizing it. When his eyes finally settled on her, they were unreadable, but something about the way he held himself-the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled at his sides-set her on edge.

  "I've been meaning to speak with you, Lilith."

  Her heart pounded. About Edwin. The name burned on her tongue, and before she could stop herself, she said it.

  "About Edwin?"

  Albert's eyes darkened, and for the first time, Lilith felt truly uneasy in his presence. A flicker of something-guilt, hesitation-crossed Albert's face before it vanished behind his ever-cold calm exterior.

  "Edwin is... no longer attending your school."

  Lilith stiffened. I know that. What I want to know is why.

  "But why? He needs structure, education—a safe place to grow." Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she didn't care.

  Albert stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He stopped right in front of her, the air around him chilling. For the first time, Lilith felt something else beneath his usual composure. A warning.

  "He is being... prepared," Albert said at last.

  A chill crawled up Lilith's spine.

  "Prepared for what?"

  Albert exhaled, his patience thinning. "The world we live in now is unforgiving, Lilith. I've had to make difficult choices."

  Her throat tightened. Difficult choices? She could barely hear over the ringing in her ears.

  "I can't explain everything to you right now," he continued. "But I need you in the compound. On the third level. Your skills are needed more urgently there than they are here."

  Lilith's fingers curled into fists.

  "But what about Edwin? Where is he? What's happening to him?" Her voice rose, panic threading through it. Edwin was like a son to her, and the thought of him subjected to whatever Albert wasn't saying-it was unbearable.

  Albert stepped closer. The air between them tensed, suffocating.

  "You'll be reunited with him soon enough," he assured, though the words felt like a hollow promise. "But for now, I need your help in the compound. There are things happening that you can't understand. But trust me, it's all for the greater good."

  The man before her didn't feel like the Albert she once knew. There had been warmth in him once, a quiet gentleness beneath the scientist's logic.

  Now, all she saw was calculation. A man who believed in his own righteousness, even as he carved away pieces of his own humanity.

  And yet, despite it all, she wanted to trust him.

  "If this is for Edwin," she whispered, forcing the words past the tightness in her chest, "then... I'll help. But I want to see him. I need to see him."

  Albert studied her, his expression unreadable.

  Then, just for a second, his face softened.

  "You will," he murmured. "In time. But for now, your place is in the compound. Trust me, Lilith.

  You're doing the right thing."

  With that, he turned, his footsteps echoing as he disappeared outside.

  Lilith stood frozen in the dimly lit classroom, her heart pounding. She had made her choice. But at what cost?

  Carlos entered a few moments later. His face sunk and looked at the floor. Lilith walked over to him and kneeled down to eye level.

  “Miss Lilith. Are you going away just like Edwin?” He asked, barely holding back his tears.

  The question hung in the air like death. The answer was obvious, no one who joined the compound hardly ever came out. Their work was too important and secret to risk letting it be known.

  Biting her lip, she calmly replied “I’ll be sure to visit as often as I can. Can you gather the other students for me?”

  “Yeah I can.”

  The following week, she stood before her students, forcing a smile she didn't feel.

  "I have an announcement."

  The children quieted. She took a breath, steadying herself.

  "I'll be leaving the school for a while. My work is taking me somewhere else."

  A murmur swept through the room-confusion, disappointment. Then, a small voice cut through the noise.

  "Miss Lilith... are you going to disappear like

  Edwin?"

  She turned. A young girl who often played with Edwin and Carlos stood at her desk, face pale— fingers gripping the edge of her chair.

  The air grew thick with unspoken fears.

  Lilith's heart clenched.

  "I'll be sure to visit as often as I can, Cheyanne" she said gently, though even as the words left her lips, she wasn't sure if they were true.

  The other children brightened, reassured. But not Carlos. He only stared at her, his eyes dark with something deeper than sadness.

  He knows.

  No one who joined the compound ever came back. Just like his father who had vanished, leaving him behind after joining the compound a year prior.

  But she had to go. She had to find out what was happening to Edwin-had to uncover the truth, no matter how terrifying it might be.

  She glanced at the empty desk beside Carlos's.

  Edwin's desk.

  Where once there had been laughter and light, there was now only an absence.

  And she feared she would soon join it.

  ———///////———

  The weight of the past pressed in on her like a slow-moving avalanche.

  Lilith sat in the dimly lit locker room, staring down at the unconscious boy before her. Edwin's face was pale, his body battered. His breathing was shallow.

  How did it come to this?

  The memories clawed at her-the bright-eyed child who once sat in her classroom, eager and full of life. The boy who had flinched under Albert's shadow, who had disappeared behind locked doors. And now, here he was. Broken. Barely clinging to life.

  She touched his bruised skin with a gentle hand, her resolve hardening. The promise she had once made-to watch over him, to keep him safe-was not forgotten. She would not fail him again.

  I have to save him.