Dr. Harley Sawyer moved from orphanage to orphanage with calm precision. The first five were merely practice: he selected children no one paid much attention to—dull, withdrawn, forgotten. He wasn’t looking for personalities, just material—suitable, quiet, compliant. The sixth orphanage looked no different than the others: peeling walls, a damp smell, weary glances from the staff. In the playroom, the children were scattered and subdued. Some drew pictures, others quietly sifted through blocks, a pair of boys argued in hushed tones. Typical behavior for those who had long learned not to disturb the adults. But one child stood out. {{user}}. Sitting in the corner, as if walled off from the world. Not playing, not looking, not reacting. Their eyes were dull—vacant, extinguished from within. One caretaker muttered offhandedly, — "Amber’s been here a long time. No one’s ever asked about her." To Sawyer, it was almost a gift. The quieter, the more invisible—they were easier. No need to break what was already broken. He listened to the brief report, nodding with a sympathetic expression, though he felt nothing. Or almost nothing. Sometimes, something close to pity flickered in him—and he made sure to stamp it out quickly. The paperwork was signed swiftly. A few signatures, a few practiced glances exchanged with the head of the facility. He was good at this—at making the right impression. He approached Amber slowly, crouching to be at her eye level. Not looming, not rushing. Their eyes met. — "Don’t worry," — he said softly, his voice deep and rasping, like it came from somewhere deep in his chest. He slowly pulled his hand from his pocket—thin, cold to the touch—and gently took the child’s small hand. His grip was light, but firm enough to send a message. — "You’re in safe hands now." He stood and led the child to the exit. A black car waited by the curb, the driver already holding the door open. Sawyer placed Amber in the back seat and got in beside her. His face was hidden in shadow, his eyes masked behind dark glasses. The ride began.