Chapter Seven: The Secret File

Friday, 8:30 p.m. — Residential Wing

Stephanie was sitting at her dressing table when she heard a quiet knock.

"Come in."

A young woman entered, wearing a white blouse, black skirt, and a small Dixon identification badge.

"Hello, Stephanie."

Stephanie turned.

"Do I know you?"

The young woman smiled nervously.

"Not officially. I'm Danielle Mercer."

Stephanie studied her.

"How long have you been here?"

"Almost a year."

"That's a long time."

Danielle glanced toward the door before closing it.

"Can I sit down? There's something I think you should know."

Two people with different stories

They sat together on the small sofa.

Danielle explained that before Dixon, her name had been Daniel Mercer.

She was nineteen and had been convicted of an assault she insisted she hadn't committed.

"My parents have no idea where I am," Danielle said. "Dixon told me they stopped looking."

"Do you believe them?"

"No."

Stephanie looked at her.

"Neither do I."

Danielle gave a small, grateful smile.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you."

For the first time since arriving, Stephanie felt she had met someone who understood what it meant to have a former life.

The founder's secret

Danielle pulled a folded document from her handbag.

It was an old photograph of a distinguished-looking man standing outside the original Dixon building.

Beneath it was a caption:

ROBERT DIXON – FOUNDER

"Have you heard of him?" Danielle asked.

"Only from the portrait in Whitmore's office."

"Margaret Whitmore is his daughter. He founded this place decades ago."

Danielle unfolded another page.

It was a section from an old institute report.

ORIGINAL INSTITUTIONAL OBJECTIVE

"To identify vulnerable young men without substantial family support and prepare selected candidates for placement within approved private households."

Stephanie read it twice.

"Private households?"

Danielle nodded.

"Rich families. Their sons. Their heirs."

"You're telling me this whole place exists to manufacture wives?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

Stephanie felt sick.

The missing residents

Danielle opened a second document.

It contained photographs of previous residents.

Some had been marked as successfully placed.

Others had simply disappeared from the records.

One photograph caught Stephanie's attention.

MICHAEL REYNOLDS.

"Who's he?"

"Someone Richard Whitmore sponsored."

Stephanie remembered Richard's name from her own placement folder.

"What happened to him?"

"Nobody knows. His family filed a missing-person report."

Stephanie looked at Danielle.

"Then we need to find out what happened."

Danielle nodded.

"There's an archive beneath the executive offices. I think the original records are still there."

A new alliance

Stephanie stood and walked to the window.

For months, she had thought only about surviving Dixon.

Now she had another reason to fight.

"Danielle, I want to help you get out of here."

Danielle looked surprised.

"Why?"

"Because you have a family. Somewhere, there are people who love you and want you home."

Danielle's eyes filled.

"And what about you?"

Stephanie was quiet.

"I don't know yet."

She turned back.

"But I'm not letting them make us disappear without a fight."

Danielle reached across and took her hand.

It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship.

Meanwhile, in Margaret Whitmore's office

Margaret was reviewing the evening's reports when an alert appeared on her computer.

RESTRICTED ARCHIVE ACCESS ATTEMPT

She frowned.

The access record showed a resident identification number.

Danielle Mercer.

Margaret picked up the telephone.

"Mrs. Hargrove? I need you to keep a closer eye on Danielle Mercer."

"Is there a problem, Director?"

"Not yet."

She looked at Robert Dixon's portrait.

"But I don't intend to let my father's institution fall apart because two residents have become curious."