S1, E3 | Forgiven

} The following events take place on the 3rd, 4th, and 5th of April, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {

> 18th January, 2031 <

Looking closely at his clipboard, as if he didn’t understand how the question was to be read, Caden attempts to decipher the words left before him. “What’s wrong?” Sophie asks, noticing the pause in questioning, her assumptions accurate. “I don’t understand the next question” Caden replies, continuing to read the lines repetitively. “Say it out loud” Sophie replies, prepared to help the process along, a gesture Caden takes kindly to.

“The questioning switches now to the other perspective, okay?” Caden replies, the added inkling of cooperation accounted for in the end making this question impossible to ask like the rest. “Switch chairs with me” Sophie replies, already standing by the time her words leave her lips, shooting down Caden’s question as to why, insisting he does as asked. Not wanting to defy his friend’s wishes, Caden sheepishly stands out of his chair and approaches Sophie’s former seat.

Halfway across the room, Sophie places her outstretched fingers upon the man’s chest, holding him back from reaching his destination, another request uttered. “Give me the clipboard” Sophie remarks, pulling her hand away and holding it in front of Caden, who gently lays the board upon the palm of the young woman’s hand. Taking his seat, Caden glances at the camera whilst Sophie occupies his own, crossing her leg and folding her arms atop the board as if it were a table.

“What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, watching the confusion come across Caden’s face like a disease. “Wait, are you questioning me now?” Caden replies, Sophie’s silent nod answering his question. “No, this isn’t my retelling, or whatever it is, I don’t wanna do this” Caden remarks, shaking his head and standing up. “Please, Caden… It’s important” Sophie replies, the constant stress of this sitdown interview straining every limit they have to offer each other.

“Why is this part important?” Caden remarks, both hands on his hips, believing himself to be warranted an explanation. “Because I need to hear every little detail” Sophie replies, the expression dropping on the boy’s face. “You don’t know what’s in your future” Caden remarks, his point immediately brushed aside, it’s importance not being cared for by the woman in the driver’s seat.

“I need to hear everything, regardless” Sophie replies, the young man ahead of her letting out a sigh before slowly lowering himself back into the chair. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, watching Caden turn his attention toward the camera, answering with the best he can offer whilst maintaining an uncomfortable and disassociated view of the lens.

= Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards =

> 3rd April, 2030 <

Pressing his knuckles against his neighbor’s door, Andrew patiently waits for a response from inside, a few lights from deep within the home beginning to turn on and allowing his wait to be put to ease. “Mr. Carrion, it’s the middle of the night” the patriarch of the family answers, his wife following closely behind. “George, Rebecca- I’m really sorry to wake you” Andrew explains, the concern on his face noticeable, “but it’s really late, and I’m still waiting for Caden to drive Sophie back.”

Understanding the worry he can read in Andrew’s expression, George eases on his hardened approach, partially infused by his confusion. “What are you talking about?” George remarks, his confusion now shared upon the concerned father at his doorstep. “Caden- he was bringing Sophie back after school” Andrew replies, struggling to understand why such confusion surrounds their conversation, “I figured he’d taken her out to eat for her birthday, I didn’t know why else they wouldn’t be back yet.”

Only helping raise his worries, Andrew peers past George and toward the staircase just beyond the doorway, a groggy Caden stepping down the steps. “Caden’s been home since the end of school” George remarks, pulling his eyes away from Andrew and placing them upon his son. “Caden, were you supposed to drive Sophie home after school?” George wonders aloud, beginning to share concern with Andrew upon his son’s answer.

“Yeah, but she changed her plans after fourth period” Caden replies, wiping the exhaustion from his eyes, “she went to go egg Logan Stewart’s house with Izzy instead.” Squinting his eyes, Andrew interrupts the conversation between father and son, asking a question of his own. “Who’s Izzy?” Andrew asks, the simple answer being given, a random classmate he’s never met being responsible for bringing home the missing daughter not sitting well with Andrew.

“Call that Izzy girl” George remarks, a confused Caden opening up his phone before pressing his fingers to the screen. “I didn’t say text the girl, did I? Call her!” George exclaims, his wife rolling her eyes as she shoves her feet into loose-fitting shoes. Pressing her name on the screen, Caden awkwardly presses the phone to his ear, hearing tones going, waiting for the voice on the other line to answer.

“Hey, this is Caden. Are you still with Sophie? She’s not home yet and her dad’s here. Text me back” Caden ends, looking back to his father to inform him of the voicemail left. “Where does that Logan kid live?” Andrew asks, nothing specific being readily available. “Those Stewart’s are rich pricks, I’m sure they’ll be in one of the suburbs” George replies, directing his wife to stay with their son as he accompanies Andrew to the car.

“What’s going on!?” Caden calls out, failing to understand why his parents are in such an equal rush. “Caden- honey- go back to your room” Rebecca explains, pulling him away from the door and turning him toward the stairs, “I’ll let you know when we find out.”

> 18th January, 2031 <

“You didn’t find it odd that I never came back?” Sophie asks, taking over the duties she left for Caden, only interrupting when something can be explored further. “I didn’t understand it at the time” Caden remarks, looking away from the camera, shaking his head toward his friend, “we were never really taught about that kind of thing.” With a deep sigh from the doorway, Andrew interrupts, his voice dry, as if it pained him too greatly to speak.

“No one teaches ‘stranger danger’ anymore… No one thinks they need to” Andrew explains, his head still aimed toward the ground, shaking with disappointment, “second biggest mistake of my life.” Not related to the recording, Sophie turns around, looking her father in the eyes, her apple-red hair flowing over her shoulders the way her blonde locks used to. “What was the first?” Sophie replies, watching her father’s head pop up for a moment, his eyes holding back tears.

Shaking his head, Andrew pulls his glance away from Sophie’s, lowering his chin once more to allow the questioning to continue. Wanting to ask her father again, Sophie holds off, turning toward Caden and returning to their original question. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, the young man across from her nodding, his head turning back to the camera.

> 3rd April, 2030 <

Slamming his door shut, Andrew hurries up to the front step of the Stewart residence, the door already left wide open, a sight that brings an unintentional wave of panic over the man. Hurrying through the front door, Andrew’s chase comes to a screeching halt, finding a handcuffed student seated on the red-cushioned couch, an older man and an older woman looking over her, the man clutching at a fire poker.

“What the hell is going on in here!?” Andrew calls out, immediately lifting tensions through the roof. “Who the hell are you!?” the man exclaims, his weapon aimed toward the unarmed man and the familiar face that enters just behind him. “I’m Sophie Amari’s father” Andrew remarks quickly, scanning the room for his daughter, “where is she?”

Unconcerned, the man approaches Andrew with his weapon, demanding he leave his home immediately. Without a second thought, Andrew grabs the midst of the fire poker and pushes it aside, sweeping the rich patriarch’s feet out from beneath him, keeping a hold on his weapon. “Where is my daughter!?” Andrew shouts, swinging the metal stick around and aiming the sharp end towards the man’s throat.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” the patriarch shouts, immediately supported by his wife, who explains the situation in a way that lends context. “We caught this one breaking into our house!” the woman exclaims, her finger lifted towards a restrained Izzy, “we’re waiting for the police to show up!” Looking toward the woman with content, George mocks her from a financial pillar below, scoffing at her statement.

“You get some kid running through your house and you call the private police?” George replies, shaking his head at the disbelief. “Do you think you’re the president? She’s a kid, not a terrorist! Call the enforcement agency!” George shouts, watching Andrew let the older man back to his feet slowly. “We’ll do as we please with our money” the woman remarks, judging the pair of intruders, “why are you in our home!?”

Handing George the fire poker, Andrew explains his case to the family, suggesting Izzy has the only answers he’s looking for. Confused, and already in no position to be accused of any worse than breaking and entering, Izzy defends herself. “Sophie bailed on me!” the girl shouts, not wanting to be responsible for whatever she might be up to, “whatever she’s doing right now, I’m not sitting in limbo for it!”

“Back up, what do you mean by ‘she bailed on me’?” Andrew replies, his heart skipping a beat when Izzy responds. “I went to pick her up at the green after school and she wasn’t there” Izzy replies, cooperating in hopes that she’ll get off easier for doing so, “I haven’t heard from her since we made plans.”

“Why did the two of you want to pelt my son with eggs?” the older woman asks, Izzy taking too much delight in answering with honesty. “Because, Hugh and Anne” Izzy remarks mockingly, “the two of you raised a douchebag.” Rolling their eyes, the older couple turns back to the pair of adults in their doorway. “You don’t know where your kid is?” Anne inquires, prompting Andrew to hang his head, subtly shaking in refusal to believe that he’s approached a dead end.

“I’m calling the police again” Hugh exclaims, pulling his phone out, brushing off the proceeding apology from the intruding men. “Not for your break-in, we’re gonna find your kid” Hugh replies, not a moment of resistance from anyone other than Izzy. “You’re gonna help them?” Izzy asks aloud, “isn’t that kind of below you?”

Not thinking highly of the wealthy pair, Izzy continues to insult the homeowners, finding herself surprised when the matriarch approaches her with a key, unlocking her handcuffs. “Go home and get back to your parents” Anne remarks, her grudge with the younger woman completely lost to more pressing matters. Confused, Izzy grabs at her wrists, wrapping her hands around the cuff marks with words aimed for the wealthy parents.

“So the whole ‘wealth-dynamic’ ends when a kid runs off?” Izzy inquires, earning the ire of every parent other than Andrew, “it’s that easy?” Shaking her head, Anne tosses the girl her carton of eggs, telling her to go home once again. Taking her freedom when offered, Izzy walks through the door, making a passing comment to Andrew, passing on her best wishes.

“She’s 5’9, fifteen years old, has blonde hair and brown eyes, right?” Hugh calls out from the kitchen, Andrew’s face forming a brief smile in the moment, the certainty bringing a sense of relief. “They’re putting a B.O.L.O out on her now” Hugh informs Andrew, returning to the room with his phone in his hand, “if she’s anywhere out in public, she won’t make it through the night without them finding her.”

“And if she’s not?” Andrew replies, Hugh’s face losing much of the certainty it carried once the question is raised. “We’ll use what we have to look for her” Hugh answers, little else to offer besides resources. With a nod, Andrew lets out a deep breath, thanking the family for their help. “We’re wealthy, not heartless” Anne replies, a sorry look on her face indicating a genuine empathy for Andrew’s troubles, “we’ll let you know what we hear back.”

Nodding, Andrew thanks them for their help, shaking their hands before departing the home in favor of their own, which he arrives to minutes later. 

“Where’s Sophie!?” Olivia cheerfully asks, running into her father’s arms, wrapping her own around his neck, pushing the side of her face into his shoulder as he props himself up on one knee. Opening his mouth to answer, Andrew puts one hand over the back of Olivia’s head and holds her tightly, beginning to lose control of the grave worry that consumes him.

“I don’t know, sweetheart” the man says through a whisper-like sob, keeping to his knee as he cries into her shoulder.

> 4th April, 2030 <

Climbing down the stairs, Caden approaches the kitchen, one corner turned before he finds a largely-occupied room, faces he’s not used to seeing inhabiting it. “Mom, dad? Why are the Stewart’s here?” Caden asks, his dislike for their son not forming a dislike for them as much as others would, though their presence remains equally questionable. “Where was Sophie?” Caden asks, both of his parents approaching him without an answer, only raising more questions.

“You said they’d find Sophie last night” Caden explains, still not receiving an answer, though, the prior statement begins to bring a swell of emotion upon Andrew, which Caden spots out of the corner of his eye. “Where the fuck is Sophie!?” Caden shouts, shoving the answer-less arms of his parents away, the sorrow in Andrew paling in comparison to the swell of rage within Caden.

“What happened to her!?” Caden shouts further, refusing to keep his voice down, his parents refusing to make him, and the remaining guests refusing to think less of him for it. “What happened!?” Caden demands, his face scrunched up with anger, his parents unable to answer with anything to stop what he feels in that moment. Stood in the middle of the room, crying, feeling responsible for having let this come about, Caden asks one more question in a moment of fluster.

“What did I do?” Caden whimpers through stunted words, prompting Andrew to push himself out of his chair, allowing him to walk up to Caden and pull him into a hug. Overwhelmed with emotions themselves, the Stewarts and Nurses watch the sight, knowing there to be no blame on Caden other than what he puts on himself.

> 18th January, 2031 <

“I don’t know what I would have thought if he didn’t hug me” Caden remarks, his face no longer pointed toward the camera, head unable to imagine where he’d be had he not been forgiven in that moment. “That’s what it was… It was an ‘I don’t blame you’” Caden explains, having viewed it as nothing less since that day, something that brings visible relief over the man in the doorway, clutching to the frame around him for support, “I needed it… We all needed it.”

“We hadn’t known where your mother was for most of your life” Andrew calls out to Sophie, prompting the girl to turn toward him, “last we heard, she skipped town from rehab when you were two.” Looking away, Sophie takes in these new revelations, putting them aside in an effort to bring herself back to the question asked earlier. “What was the biggest mistake?” Sophie asks, her father’s disappointment in his answer as present as it was before, but his reply being given nonetheless.

“Marrying your mother” Andrew responds, his gravelly voice reflected by the echo around him, an answer that satisfies Sophie, despite her cold expression suggesting otherwise. Turning back to Caden, Sophie asks him to continue. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie wonders aloud, returning Caden to the painful world he’s been tasked with reimagining, this hassle visually wearing him down, his posture becoming less held-together, face tired and weary.

> 4th April, 2030 <

“Why do you keep Logan inside all the time?” Andrew asks, hands folded, holding his chin up, a question the wealthy couple have been asked many times before. “We say it’s for convenience a lot” Anne remarks, Hugh not wishing to speak on personal outlooks, the topic coming off as uncomfortable to him, prompting him to remain silent, “I think- deep down- it’s to avoid this.”

Puzzled and intrigued, Andrew nods, looking at the couple through the corner of his eye, raising a fair question. “Why is that one of the concerns you hide?” Andrew replies, admitting that most people would use that as their first answer rather than their last. Looking down, Anne fiddles with her thumbs, the answer one she hasn’t given much thought to before. “We’re the ones with the connections” Anne remarks, looking to Andrew with shame, “we can’t look scared when we have power like that.”

Flashing a smirk, unable to feel much other than sorrow and grief, Andrew looks to the couple, uttering a phrase that brings a chuckle out of the pair. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” Andrew replies, Hugh holding a disappointed grimace, his wife nodding her head in agreement. “People hate you for what you have, look down on you when they can, and view everything you do through multiple dimensions” Anne explains, letting out a concealed sigh, “it’s how the world works.”

Finding common ground despite the large discrepancies between them, Andrew and the Stewarts are caught by surprise when a knock at the door presents itself. Racing down the stairs, Caden intends to be the first to the door, his father following closely behind, holding him back to allow his mother to be the one to answer. “Come in, please” Rebecca invites, a small team of private police entering the home with their hopes set on talking to Andrew.

Pointing himself out, Andrew approaches the officers, his hope for good news quickly fading into the same limbo he’s been left to experience. “Can we speak to you in private, sir?” the police proceed, Andrew following the officers to a less populated corner of the home. “There’s not much left behind for us to go off of here” the officer explains, watching the life leave Andrew’s face, “the last anyone saw of her was a student that spotted her in the courtyard yesterday afternoon.”

“But that’s good!” Andrew explains, the small window of time where she could have been taken would narrow down the possibilities greatly as far as Andrew would assume. “It would be very good if we had any operable cameras in that area” the officers reply, confusion beginning to return. “It’s a school yard! They don’t have cameras!?” Andrew remarks, the cold shake of the officer's head bringing on disbelief.

“When the state senate struck down camera-qualifications, schools took them down to cut on costs” officers reply, sharing the father’s annoyance, “the best we can do is ask everyone around what they saw, but we’re not holding out too much hope on that.” With a groan, Andrew clenches his fists in an effort to calm himself, the officers before him trying to help guide his breathing down.

“Andrew, we need you to think for us, can you do that?” the officers ask, an anger-driven Andrew nodding in response, agreeing to the request. “Child trafficking cases aren’t very common, they’re just not feasible like they used to be” the uniformed men explain, watching Andrew’s body grow relaxed, “most cases like this are committed by people that know the victim- which might be a factor here.”

Tilting his head to the side, Andrew begins to wonder where the officers are going, his wonder quashed in the span of the next few seconds. “We need you to think of anyone that would do something like this, and we need to know everything about them you can recall” the officers explain, watching the flushed look on the man’s face arrive.

> 18th January, 2031 <

“And what did you say, dad?” Sophie asks, turning back toward her father with a look of suspenseful hope, the first true emotion she’s shown all day. Puckering his lips, Andrew looks to his daughter, feeling a deep-ridden failure to have performed his duties as a father. “I said-” Andrew begins, his voice coming off as a whisper, its contents heard throughout thanks to the echo that carries it, “I said ‘I can’t think of anyone’.”

Her eyes moving to the narrow corner of her face, staring upon a blank wall, Sophie recognizes this as the moment she was doomed to the fate that awaited her. “So… If I didn’t-” Sophie begins, stopping herself and squeezing her eyes tight, a single tear streaming down her face, only beginning to speak upon skipping a piece of her response, “-I would have never gotten out?”

Opening her eyes, Sophie looks back to her father, who lets tears flow freely, no longer making any attempt to stop them. “I wasn’t there when you needed me” Andrew replies, looking around the room his daughter was held prisoner in, unable to enter it fully. “It’s not your fault” Sophie remarks, surprising her father, whose lip quivers as he struggles to accept that statement as the truth.

Mirroring the gift of forgiveness her father had given Caden, Sophie returns the gesture back to him, admitting that she likely would have done the same. “No one’s hands are clean in any of this” Caden replies, interjecting himself into the conversation, prompting Sophie to turn back to him, offering him her full focus. “We all played a hand in this, without knowing it and without being able to change it” Caden explains, making peace with it all in the moment, “we’d all change it if we could.”

For a few seconds, the room goes quiet, Caden and Andrew solidifying their own opinions whilst Sophie silently harbors her own. “I wouldn’t” Sophie suddenly says aloud, earning the quick attention of both her father and best friend. “I would’ve never learned what I needed to if none of this happened” Sophie remarks, the same cold contrast in expression as her mother worn upon her own face, “I needed to learn.”

> 5th April, 2030 <

Removing himself from his car, Andrew confidently walks through the schoolyard his daughter had stood upon just two days prior, his intentions set on meeting those that oversee it. Pulling the door open, Andrew notes the lack of a lock or monitoring of the building, its entrance just as unguarded and free to move through as it was when he was a kid, before the time of monitoring every single step a student would or wouldn’t take.

His arms waving from one side to another with each strut, Andrew scans the walls, not minding the students he would stumble across every now and then, finally finding a sign indicating the location of the main offices. Shoving the glass doors in, Andrew storms into the office with a fury, the lady at the front desk confused by this sudden presentation.

“Who’s in charge of this institution?” Andrew asks, his words not missing a beat, the fright in the woman’s posture lending credence to her lack of immediate answer. Lowering his voice, but keeping on the stern tone, Andrew repeats his question, watching the woman reach for the phone at her desk. With ease, Andrew takes a pair of scissors from a cup of supplies and severs the landline, repeating his question for a third time.

Without a word, the woman points to a room at the end of the hall, quickly hurrying for the phone from another desk once Andrew begins walking away. Fist raised, Andrew slams his hand against the door, demanding an answer from who occupies the inside. Without a sound from the other end, Andrew looks into the glass window and sees an empty office, prompting him to turn back.

Just as he walks through the hall, Andrew finds a well-dressed man entering the office, greeting the frightened woman before acknowledging her scared state. “What’s wro-” the man begins, his eyes falling on Andrew before he can finish that question. “Who are you?” the man asks, looking at Andrew like he’d just kicked a puppy in the face. “Sam Wrenich, right?” Andrew replies, his finger raised toward the older man, “the president of this place- right?”

Without a verbal answer, Andrew judges his accuracy by the nervous look spread from one side of Sam’s ear to the other, pleased with what he finds. With a nod and a smile, Andrew balls his hand into a fist and lays one shot into the man’s chin, sending him flying back into a row of chairs neatly placed along the wall. Pulling the door open to the secretary’s screams, Andrew drags Sam into the hall by the tie, a group of students bleeding out of their cramped classrooms.

Yanking Sam to his feet, Andrew presses the man against a set of lockers, another shot sending the man straight back to the ground. Not yet satisfied, Andrew reaches down and starts dragging the man toward the bathroom, his intentions to continue the beating thwarted when a small group of teachers tackle him to the floor. “You should be protecting my daughter!” Andrew shouts, a dazed Sam crawling away with his hand pressing against his own jaw.

“You let them take my daughter, you miserable cunt!” Andrew shouts, placing the blame on Sam’s shoulders, whether warranted or not. Restrained, the distraught father refuses to fight back, his anger not held against the teachers just doing their jobs. “These men are more than you’ll ever be!” Andrew shouts, continuing to lay on the insults as the sirens near, waiting for the consequences to his actions.

== Generation Alpha ==