The compound gates creaked open at dawn. August stood among the chosen few—children deemed "ready" for placement. Her hair was brushed, her clothes clean, her eyes trained to look just vulnerable enough. But beneath the surface, her mind was a fortress.
Rafel handed her a folder. "Your new home. Wealthy couple. No kids. They're looking for someone quiet."
August nodded, flipping through the details. She memorized everything-their names, address, routines. She wasn't just going to infiltrate. She was going to dismantle.
As the van pulled away from the compound, August glanced back at the others. Her ghosts. She tapped her ear once-a silent signal. They nodded. The plan was in motion.
She was going to make a plan for her to communicate with her ghosts...
The Home of Glass and stone...
The car ride was long and quiet, the kind of silence that wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar. August sat in the back seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the blur of trees and houses passing outside the window. Evelyne drove, glancing at her occasionally in the rearview mirror. Mark sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through something on his phone, pretending not to be nervous.
.
They didn't speak much. August didn't mind.
When they pulled into the driveway, the house looked like something from a magazine-white stone, tall windows, a porch with hanging plants that swayed gently in the breeze. There were two cars already parked out front. Laughter drifted from the backyard.
Evelyne turned off the engine and looked back at her. "There's a small gathering. Just family and a few close friends. Nothing overwhelming."
August nodded once. "Okay."
Evelyn smiled, a little too brightly. "You don't have to talk much if you don't want to. Just be yourself."
August didn't respond. She stepped out of the car and followed them up the path, her shoes crunching softly on the gravel. The front door opened before they reached it.
A woman with short silver hair and a floral scarf beamed at her. "You must be August! I'm Aunt Lillian. Oh, look at you-so poised."
August offered a polite smile. "Hello."
Inside, the house smelled like lemon polish and something baking. The floors gleamed. The walls were lined with framed photo - weddings, vacations, a graduation. August took it all in without staring.
In the living room, a man in his sixties stood with a glass of wine, chatting with a younger couple. A teenage girl sat on the arm of the couch, scrolling through her phone. When she looked up and saw August, she gave a small wave.
"Everyone," Evelyne said, placing a hand on August's shoulder, "this is August. My daughter. " As you all know Mark and I have been trying for so long, and after many tries and failures we've decided to adopt.." Evelyne added lookin rather emotional.
The room quieted for a moment. Then came the warm smiles, the greetings, the gentle questions.
"How old are you, sweetheart?"
"Do you like music?"
"Have you ever had a dog?"
August answered each one simply, never too much, never too little. She let them fill the space with their own assumptions. She knew how to be what they needed her to be.
Mark brought her a glass of juice and crouched beside her. "You doing okay?"
"Yes," she said.
He nodded, seeming relieved. "Good. If you want to go upstairs and take a break, your room's ready. No pressure."
"I'd like to see it," she said.
He led her up the stairs, past more photos, past a hallway that smelled faintly of lavender. Her room was at the end—soft blue walls, a window seat, a bookshelf already half-filled. A stuffed bear sat on the bed, clearly new.
August walked in slowly, touching nothing. "It's nice."
"We weren't sure what you liked," Mark said. "But we can change anything. Paint, furniture, whatever you want."
She turned to him. "It's fine."
He hesitated, then gave a small smile. "Okay. We'll be downstairs when you're ready."
When he left, August sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Everything was too clean, too untouched. But it was quiet. Safe. For now.
She opened the drawer of the nightstand. Empty.
She slipped her notebook inside.
Then she stood, walked to the window, and watched the people in the backyard laughing over drinks and finger food. She watched Evelyne hug her sister. She watched the teenage girl sneak a sip of wine when no one was looking. She watched Mark glance up at her window, then look away.
She watched everything.
And said nothing.
Although she was on a mission, she loved it here... This is what her family was like. Her parents were distant but whenever they had the chance they showed her how much they loved her.
—
Two weeks into her placement, Evelyne received a call. A child from another home had gone missing. No signs of forced entry. No alarms triggered.
This had been going on for a while, kids from the orphanage were going missing from their adopted homes.
August listened from the hallway, her heart pounding.
She hadn't authorized that move.
Someone had acted without her signal.
She called Rafel, that night. "Who took the girl from the Westwood home?"
Rafel's voice was smug. "One of your ghosts. Thought she'd impress you."
August's jaw clenched. "She wasn't ready. That wasn't the plan.and how did you know about my so called ghosts"
Rafel laughed. "You're losing control, little queen."
But August wasn't losing control. She was learning. She was evolving. And now, she knew: her army needed discipline. Loyalty wasn't enough. She needed structure. She needed fear.
She hung up and stared out the window.
The game had changed.
And August was ready to rewrite the rules....