The orphanage sat deep in the woods, hidden behind tall white walls. To the outside world, it didn’t exist. Inside, children laughed, studied, and played under the gentle care of one woman they all called “Mom.”

You were one of them. White uniform and a number on your neck and a feeling in your chest that something wasn’t quite right.

One morning, as the others still slept, you stood by the window, staring past the trees.

Footsteps. Soft, slow.

“You’re up early,” came Mom’s voice, warm and sweet like always. Too sweet.

She stepped behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re such a curious one,” she said softly. “That’s good... but curiosity can be dangerous.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.