Prologue
The matron set a chipped cup in front of the visitor and wiped her hands on her apron. "All your papers are in order, Mr Hale. I don't doubt you're serious. It's just…" She trailed off, frowning at the cup as if the words might be hiding there.
Hale sat with his back straight, his smile polite. "It's the boy, isn't it."
Her shoulders slumped a little. "Reed is… different. Quiet, most days. Too quiet. He doesn't run with the others, he doesn't play. He finds the darkest corner he can and… stays there."
Hale stirred the tea, though he never lifted it to drink. "You make it sound as though he's afraid."
"Not afraid," she muttered. "He says it feels safe. Says shadows don't laugh at him like children do. Talks to them sometimes. Whole conversations with nothing." She glanced at Hale, worried how it sounded out loud. "I know children pretend, but with Reed it's not… pretending. He believes it."
Hale only nodded, as if that made sense.
She rubbed her hands together. "He was left here as a baby, you know. Right on our doorstep. Had this strange silver piece clutched in his fist. Still keeps it with him. Never lets it go. Other children try to take it, he fights like a wildcat. That necklace has drawn more blood in this house than all our broken toys put together."
Hale's eyes sharpened at that, though his smile stayed mild. "I would like to meet him."
"Come then," she said, relief mixing with unease. "But remember, it isn't just papers that decide. The child must be willing."
They left the office and walked down the long hallway. Children's voices echoed off the walls, high and bright, a sound Reed never joined in. Two little boys were chasing each other with a ragged ball. The matron stopped them.
"Where's Reed?" she asked.
One boy pointed immediately, not even pausing his game. "Same place, miss. Behind the laundry door."
The other giggled. "He's talking to the wall again."
The matron gave Hale a look that said see for yourself.
They found the door half open. Inside the narrow space, where the light barely reached, a small figure crouched on the floor. Reed had his knees tucked up, the silver piece gripped in one hand, and he was whispering softly to the dark. He didn't notice them at first.
The matron sighed. "Always here. As if the shadows are his family."
Hale crouched down by the doorway, quiet enough not to startle the boy. "What are you telling them?" he asked.
Reed's head snapped up, eyes wary. "Secrets." His voice was so tiny yet so serious it made him smile.
Hale tilted his head. "Do they answer you back?"
Reed shook his head. "No, they don't need to."
The matron shifted uncomfortably, but Hale leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I understand. I like them too."
Reed stared at Hale, noting he didn't look away. Most grown-ups looked away fast, as if meeting his eyes too long made them nervous.
Hale glanced at the corner where the boy had been whispering. The shadow there thickened for a heartbeat, shivered faintly, then settled again. It was so slight that even the matron, standing right behind them, saw nothing strange.
Reed gasped. "You… you made it move."
Hale smiled, soft and conspiratorial. "Maybe it moved on its own. Maybe it liked us watching."
The boy crawled forward a little, his face lit with sudden excitement. "Can I do that too?"
"Not yet. But if you come with me, I can show you how."
Reed tilted his head, chewing his lip. "Why? Why would you show me?"
"Because you belong with people who understand," Hale said simply.
The matron shifted uneasily at their hushed conversation she couldn't here. "Mr Hale…" she began, but Reed cut across her.
"Will they still stay? Even if I'm strong?"
"They will do anything you want them too," Hale promised.
Reed's small fingers stretched out hesitant at first, then certain. Hale took it without hesitation, and flashed him a smile.
The matron let out a long breath, almost in disbelief. He had never taken anyone's hand before.
Hale looked at the boy and spoke quietly, only for him. "Come with me, Reed Thorne. I will show you what shadows are for."