Someone had been watching her suffer. Recording it. Studying it.
Ariston sat heavily in his chair.
“How did I not see this?” he whispered.
“You were busy,” Sky said simply.
He looked at her.
“You’re seven,” he said. “How did you see it?”
“Because I wasn’t busy,” she answered. “I just looked at her.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“That afternoon, we get an injunction,” the lawyer said. “But long-term, we need more. We need proof that what Calva did went beyond whatever you signed.”
Ariston opened his laptop with shaking hands. He dove into VLab’s secure servers, searching for anything tied to Project Seraphim.
He found a hidden folder.
Inside were daily logs written by Miss Calva.
He opened one file and went pale.
“The authorized protocol says ‘monitor stress responses,’” the lawyer said, reading over his shoulder. “But look at this.”
Ariston read aloud.
“‘Subject E.V. showed resistance today. Increased pain stimulus by forty percent to test compliance threshold. Subject broke after twelve minutes.’”
The room went silent.
“She was torturing her,” Ariston whispered. “Not monitoring—torturing.”
The lawyer’s jaw tightened.