Chapter 24: The Director's Salary
Carter stared at **Yolanda**, her expressive face tightened into a cute, suspicious frown. She was waiting for an answer.
Instantly, the **Earth System** flooded his vision with tactical data. On the left side of her face, a blinking red icon labeled **LIE** suggested a simple, safe deflection: *Tell her you were talking to yourself, or rehearsing a meeting.* She would likely brush it off, but the subsequent questions about the impossible campus would be harder to dodge.
On the right side of her, a vibrant green icon labeled **TRUTH** pulsed with conviction. Earth was alerting him to the second choice, the high-risk, high-reward path: **Reveal the essential truth, offer the job, and secure the ally.**
*"Probability of acceptance at this salary and with her parental motivations: **10 out of 10**,"* Earth's data stream confirmed.
Carter took a deep breath, letting the lie option fade. He had lived in shadow too long.
"Who I was talking to," Carter said, his voice dropping to a serious, confidential tone, "is the System that runs this facility. And you're right, Yolanda. I am not who I said I was."
He gestured to the deactivated holograms around them. "There's no CESGA. This place—the one that magically appeared on a defunct rail yard—is the **Earth Academy**. And I built it for your daughter."
Yolanda's eyes widened, her frown replaced by sheer disbelief. She backed up half a step, looking for the exit.
"Don't panic," Carter said quickly. "Look around. You're safe. Amina is safe. The reason she's walking at two weeks old, the reason she was hot enough to start a fire... it's because the planet has changed. Magic is real, and she is one of the first children on Earth born with it."
He stepped toward her, projecting calm authority. "I brought it back. And now, I'm the only person who knows how to control it."
He didn't wait for her disbelief to solidify. He moved immediately to the offer, making it concrete and irresistible.
"Yolanda, I need you. I can buy a security staff. I can buy chefs, professors, and titanium walls. But I cannot buy what you have: **the heart of a mother who understands this world.**"
He gave her the number, watching her reaction closely. "I am offering you a six-figure contract, **\$300,000 a year**, to be the **Director of Child Welfare and Curriculum Integration** for this Academy."
Yolanda stared, her mind clearly trying to process the concept of a number that high. She looked back at Carter as though he had just told her she would have to be the President.
Carter realized he needed to soften the scope. "Your job is simple, but vital: **You make every child that walks into these facilities feel like he or she's at home.** These children will be afraid, alone, and volatile. They will be separated from a world that won't understand them. It's your job to be a constant, nurturing presence—to operate as thousands of children's surrogate mother."
He continued, trying to soothe the beautiful young lady's mind, ignoring the System's gentle caution about lying. "Look, we probably only have one or two kids to look after for the next few months, no biggie. Just you, Amina, and maybe one other child for a while. You get your own safe, cozy home—there are more secure facilities beneath your room. You can raise your baby girl without worrying about paying rent or setting the curtains on fire."
He saw the struggle in her eyes: the desire to run colliding with the profound, overwhelming lure of safety, security, and a future for Amina.
"This is not just a job, Yolanda," Carter finished, his voice sincere. "This is a partnership. We need a hero in a cardigan and sensible shoes. Are you in?"
Yolanda blinked once, absorbing the impossible offer, the impossible truth, and the undeniable peace she had felt when her baby slept.
"Three hundred thousand dollars," she whispered, testing the words. "To make sure a bunch of red-haired, weird kids feel at home?"
She met his gaze, the fear finally eclipsed by determination. "I'm in."
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