Prologue

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Frank was thirteen when it first happened.

At this age, he'd become a bit more mature, and was quite uncomfortable with standing in a room full of adults in only his underwear.

He shouldn't have felt so embarrassed. These people - his parents, really - had been looking over him ever since Frank was young. They fed him, they clothed them, they sheltered him. Whether Frank was sick or sad or just plain bored, they were always there for him.

That's why Frank was so confused at first.

"Come on, dear." Rosa ushered the boy into the unfamiliar room. He'd never been allowed in here before; it was one of the few rooms that was always strictly off limits.

Now that Frank was finally granted permission to enter the room, he wondered why it was ever restricted at all. It was plain and perfectly square with no furniture, decorations, or indication that anyone had ever occupied it. Stark white paint covered the walls, ceiling, and floor. And on the wall right in front of him hung a wide, black curtain.

The room ceased to impress him.

"Now, Frank," Rosa started. She put a hand on his shoulder, the cold metal of her wedding ring sending shocks through his bare skin. "The others should be here soon. When they arrive, I think it's time to explain some things to you."

Frank furrowed his eyebrows. Explain? He was thirteen. A teenager. What was she expecting he didn't understand?

He thought back to all the times Parker answered his spontaneous questions. The moments when Ingrid became so immersed in her explanations that Frank had to kindly remind her what time it was. Even Scarlett would educate him on anything he wanted to know. So what was there left to learn?

He would know soon enough.

The door opened and the rest of the group filed their way inside. Ingrid was carrying two clipboards and pens, half of which she handed to Rosa, Scarlett was carrying a camera and Parker held nothing. From the looks of it, this was something serious. Frank swallowed nervously, suddenly remembering his lack of clothing.

Finally, the last person arrived. Max. He was wheeling in a large, black box, about four feet tall and wide enough to just barely make it through the doorway.

Frank had never seen this box before. He was curious of course; there were plenty of surprises being brought into his life at this moment. But at the same time, he was starting to become a bit nervous. The ridiculously calm, formal atmosphere was making him uncomfortable and honestly, all he wanted to do was start asking questions. Although something told him that wasn't the best idea.

As the adults got settled, exchanging crinkly papers, quiets words and approving glances at the black box, Frank twisted his hands nervously. He had never really enjoyed being the center of attention but unfortunately attention was all he seemed to receive. As if he was something special.

But there wasn't really anything special about him.

"Frank." Ingrid was the first to speak. Her dark hair, pulled in a knot at the back of her head, gave her a professional look that Frank wasn't sure he liked. Ingrid was the youngest of the adults - only 25 years old - and was a regularly happy person. She'd always found everything so fascinating. Just from the way she explained things to Frank, anyone could tell how much the woman enjoyed learning new things. Ingrid was intelligent and lively, yet incredibly caring and energetic; this serious appearance made Frank feel as if he didn't even know her anymore.

What could possibly be going on?

"Frank?" Ingrid sighed. "Are you listening?"

Looking at the line of adults staring back at him, Frank felt a rush of warmth rise to his cheeks. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I'm listening."

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