Felicia had spent the last hour and a half assembling the frame of a new crib for Jason. Four days prior, Jason had torn the sidewall of his crib clean off in an attempt to get out. After another trip to the hospital, Felicia set out to create her son a new bed that could accommodate his burgeoning strength. She studied the previous cribs design, analyzing its dimensions and point of failure. After creating her own design, she sent segments of the design to a variety of fabricators in the area. She avoided giving the entire plan to one fabricator, for security sake, as she worried they may express concern over why a child would need a steel reinforced bed. After receiving all the fabricated components, Felicia got to work assembling the parts together. She tied her hair up in a bandana, threw on a pair of khaki shorts and tied her shirt up at the waist as she got to work screwing in each component. She wiped away the sweat from her brow as she finished screwing in the last sidewall. She then spent the next half hour matting the inside of the crib before personalizing it with her son's personal effects. The total cost of the bed came out to just over $25000, another tremendous financial investment needed to make for her son's sake. All in told, Felicia had already spent well over $200000 for specialized amenities for her son's wellbeing, an amount she imagined would only grow considerably as he got older. During the whole construction, Felicia let Jason roam free about his room. He muttered baby talk as he crawled about the ceiling of his room. After giving the crib a thorough examination, Felicia stood up and turned her attention to the corner of the room's ceiling where her son was still crawling, babbling to himself.

"Jason, sweetheart, come down for mommy."

He peered over, looking at his mother briefly before continuing on with his previous behavior.

"Jason!" Felicia bellowed as she stomped her right foot on the ground. Jason immediately froze, shuddering slightly, before redirecting himself and crawling to his mother's position. He got the message. He crawled over to his mother's feet quickly where she then picked him up and walked over to his new bed. She laid him inside, where he took a moment to examine the inside of his new bed before erecting himself up and standing at his cribs edge. He placed his small hands around two poles that comprised part of the sidewall of his crib. He looked at his mother confused, slightly dejected as he seemed uncomfortable in his new surrounding. His new bed had qualities more in line with a prison: it was stiff with measures built in to contain its occupant. Its unwelcomeness was masked with a number of playful amenities placed inside to make it more amicable to an infant . Felicia sighed as she saw the uneasiness grow on her son's face.

"Sorry kiddo."

Before she could comfort her son, her phone suddenly rang. She checked to see and saw Diana was calling her.

"Diana?"

"Hey-o! Sorry last minute! I'm with a client right now and it is taking forever! I'm not going to make my next appointment! Could you cover it?"

"We can't reschedule?"

"Veronica tried, but he said he's leaving soon for two weeks and it's gotta be today or never."

Felicia looked around, shaking her head. She took the day off and wanted to spend time with her son, but she admittedly had a weakness for Diana, who had become her best field agent in the past weeks, and felt slightly compelled to fulfill the request.

"This guy is super rich and I really don't think we should lose this contract!"

Felicia looked down at her son, before noticing his crib in the background. She sighed as she realized it would probably be in her best financial interest to not lose a prospective client. "Alright I need to find someone to watch Jason. I can be there in a bit, send me the address."

After getting all the information from Diana, Felicia made a call to her nanny ,Jessica, who unfortunately informed her she was unavailable, before she eventually managed to get Veronica to watch over Jason in the meantime. She got dressed quickly before loading up Jason's stroller with a few bottles of milk, a diaper bag and a spare set of clothes. She loaded the goods into her car before driving off to her office. She parked her car after arriving and made her up to her office. Just before entering she picked her son up from his stroller and looked at him intently.

"Don't crush anything," she told him sternly.

She left Jason with Veronica, who was delighted to take care of the infant, before she made her way to her clients address. Felicia didn't know too much about the client. From Diana's abbreviated info, his name was Raymond Warren, a former prolific inventor now living off the wealth generated from a number of patents he owned. The name seemed oddly familiar to Felicia, but she dismissed it as she couldn't reach a conclusion on the matter. Mr. Warren had contacted Cat's Eye after having a break in and wanted to have a consultation in regards to improving his homes security. She didn't like to meet clients without doing a thorough investigation into their background, but she figured this would be another routine assessment that would take about an hour or so and she could then return to her son. Felicia parked her car in a garage on N State St before making her way towards her client's residence. It was situated in a building adjacent to the Chicago Theatre. Felicia made her way inside towards the lobby and approached one of the attendants.

"Hi, I'm with Cat's Eye Security. I'm here to see a Mr. Warren," Felicia told the attendant.

"Mr. Warren?" The attendant peered through his computer. "Ah okay. I see you now. Can I get your ID?"

Felicia handed her work ID to the attendant who proceeded to scan it into his database, before giving her the clear to enter the building.

Felicia made her way down the hall towards the elevators. She made her way to the top floor before reaching the entrance of her client's address. She stood before two grand wooden doors before pressing the doorbell. The door opened and she was met with a middle aged man, clean shaven, dressed well with the reservation of a man who no longer needed to toil to build the great wealth he had amassed. He looked at Felicia and blinked suddenly, as if he made a sudden realization, before addressing her.

"Hi, I'm Ray. Are you from Cat's Eye?"

"Yes, I am. You called about a consultation?"

"Ah yes, please come inside."

Felicia followed the man into his home peering at the amenities he had adorned it with. There were a number of large bookshelves adorning several walls, disheveled however, with several books lying across the floor. Filling the middle of the living room were a number of white pedestals each containing various items contained in glass. The man's home had qualities more akin to a museum or library, a likely reflection of the owner's affinity for knowledge. Felicia became a little puzzled. The encased items,she could tell, were worth a considerable sum, and yet were completely disregarded. Even the books littering the floor had substantial value, as many of them were first editions, and even taking a handful of them would have netted a considerable profit. Whoever broke in was not looking to steal indiscriminately, they were looking for something specific. Mr. Warren noticed Felicia's attentive eyes scanning the inside of his home intently.

"I'm a collector as you can see. I've built up a vast collection that I suppose some people decided to help themselves to."

"What exactly was stolen?"

"U-uh nothing, thank goodness" he stammered suddenly. "But I don't want to take any chances. I want this place more secure than Fort Knox!"

Felicia smirked slightly, she figured her client was lying. Not about the security upgrade but about the stolen contents. She figured he had something of considerable value hidden away, possibly a vault containing hidden wealth or stolen goods, that he did not wish to disclose. The prospective thief in her wanted to finish what the other burglar couldn't, but her better judgement brushed those devious thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. Felicia asked Mr. Warren to give her a thorough tour of his home and they proceeded to go through each room as Felicia meticulously examined each rooms layout. During the whole process Felicia inquired as to why Mr. Warren hadn't reorganized his home after the break-in to which he answered he wanted to leave it as is for the consultation to review. He revealed he hadn't called the police as he had no faith in their investigative services. Another lie Felicia figured, indicating whatever Mr. Warren had hidden was illicit. They reached the rooftop where Mr. Warren showed Felicia a skylight where the burglars had cut a hole in the glass and unlocked the window.

"Now this I don't understand. These windows cost a fortune. They have a special sensors that should have gone off when they broke in," Mr. Warren pouted.

"Those sensors are only built into the frame of the window, not the glass itself. By cutting a delicate hole in the window, you can completely bypass those sensors. We sell a special type of sensor that can resolve that for you."

Mr. Warren looked at Felicia with a measure of bewilderment countered with a little astonishment. He didn't expect to receive such a precise assessment to what initially confounded him. At that moment, he developed a budding level of respect for the young woman. As they continued throughout the building, Felicia continued to impress him with her examinations and suggestions on his home's security. The growing respect he had for Felicia, fueled a question that had been plaguing him since he first met her.

"Tell me, are you from New York?" He inquired.

"Why do you ask?" She responded, slightly unnerved.

"Oh your accent, I thought it was from New York."

"Oh no, Chicagoan born and raised."

Mr. Warren nodded his head slightly taking the admission with uncertainness. As they continued into the next room, Mr. Warren's cellphone rang. He excused himself to answer it and left outside to his home's terrace. The nature of whatever was being discussed erased the otherwise pleasant demeanor of the man and replaced it with an expression of frustration. pouted angry inaudibles before ending the call and recomposing himself. He reentered and addressed Felicia.

"I'm sorry about that. Just handling business for my brother. I actually need to step out for about 20 minutes, would you be able to conclude this assessment without me?"

"Oh yes, these final rooms shouldn't take too long."

"Perfect."

He nodded as he departed his residence, leaving Felicia to conclude her examination. Her curiosity kicked in as soon as Mr. Warren had vacated and wanted to know what her client was hiding. There were only two rooms left: a study and a laundry room. Felicia started in the laundry room ,but she quickly assessed that it had no prospective avenue for any thief to compromise as the room was completely windowless. She made her way to the study where, like outside, she found bookshelves disheveled with a number of books thrown on the floor. In the middle of the room, she found a desk, atop it a number of papers with drawings of schematics and accompanying notes presumably written by her client. At the end of the room hung a large portrait of two males, one of whom Felicia could tell was her client in his youth and the other male presumably his aforementioned brother. Felicia furrowed her brow as she drew a finger to her lips in contemplation. She drew close to the painting and began knocking around it in a growing perimeter until she noticed the sound of her knock change.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, why does everyone always think its the bookshelf?" Felicia shook her head as she realized she had uncovered a false wall. Felicia looked around briefly before pressing her hand firmly around the painting. She figured there must be a false panel covering the entry pad nearby. She felt a section of the wall ,right beside the painting, press in before lifting into the adjacent sidewall. Proceeding outwards was an electronic entry pad with a palm print input. Felicia was pleasantly surprised as she hadn't seen one of these in awhile. She drew her hand to her chin before deciding the best course to circumvent the security. She reached into a bag she had with her and pulled out a small tablet with a small cable attached. At the end of the cable was a small RFID transponder that Diana had created months ago.

"Thank you Diana," Felicia uttered as she activated the transponder and proceeded to boot up the entry pads operating system on her tablet. In her experience, security inputs with more electronics meant more components to compromise. She flickered through lines of code before finding the line that would grant entry. The wall suddenly pressed in before sliding into the adjoining sidewall. Felicia looked at her phone, determining only four minutes had lapsed since her client left, leaving plenty of time to examine the inside of the hidden room.

Inside was a large dim room with the lighting arranged to illuminate a number of pedestals holding a number of items encased in glass. Another collection, but the items of which no collector could easily, or legally obtain. She peered at one pedestal holding a crescent shaped dart that she then realized belonged to a hero known as Moon Knight. Another pedestal held a collection of arrows that she recognized as belonging to another hero known as Hawkeye. Her client's collection wasn't just exclusive to heroes but criminals as well as she noticed a number of masks belonging to various gangs including the Inner Demons gang and The Hand. The most impressive item she'd seen so far was a mask belonging to the mercenary Taskmaster. The black market for superhero and criminal memorabilia was niche, but extremely profitable from the collectors who were willing to pay tremendous amounts for authentic goods. Felicia stayed away from that market, however, lest the robbery go awry and she'd find herself the target of well known superheroes or supervillains. She felt more comfortable in stealing goods that she could readily enjoy or fence easily. She did, however, seriously consider stealing one of Spiderman's masks as she knew a number of collectors who'd be willing to pay several hundred thousand for it, but her sentiment for the webslinger, at the time, compelled her not to.

Continuing down the room was another collection of illicit goods, outside the category of memorabilia. There were a number of paintings hanging, one of which Felicia recognized as the missing "Poppy Flowers," by Van Gogh. In glass cases positioned atop a number of pedestals, were a variety of diamonds, faberge eggs, small statues and a number of jewelry that Felicia no doubt believed the outside world recorded as missing or stolen. Felicia couldn't help but smile in admiration of the collection and the amount of effort needed to assemble it clandestinely. Whoever stole these goods originally was of exceptional skillset, likely rivaling her own. She doubted her client was the thief, as his portly physique and covetous demeanor indicated he was a buyer. Felicia assessed whoever originally stole these items was either killed, captured or compromised in some capacity with opportunistic parties coming into knowledge of the existence of the illicit collection. Felicia figured the original thief wasn't the one who broke in, as anyone of that skillset, would have uncovered the collection as easily as she did. In any case, her assessment and security recommendations would likely ensure her client's collection would remain in his possession.

Felicia rounded the end of the room, where she found a desk with a computer connected to a series of six monitors positioned a grid like display. The contents of most of the screens displayed schematics for a variety of devices of unknown purpose, likely more prospective inventions her client was developing. The bottom two screens ,to the right of the computer, displayed what appeared to be a genome sequence carefully mapped out; for what end Felicia could not surmise. Beside the keyboard was a tape recorder, a device Felicia was all too familiar in using. She pressed the playback, curious to know what her client had recorded.

A heavy sigh echoed through the recorders speaker as the recording began to play. "Another setback, the old man was arrested last night. I don't think he'll be getting out this time. I guess that spells the end of my collecting for the time-being. Miles, I know when I retired from teaching, you wanted me to come work with you, to change the world together, but I indulged myself. Focused on my own endeavors instead of helping to advance yours. Soon we'll meet and I have theories on how to resolve the cellular degeneration you had mentioned previously. Soon."

The recording suddenly cut off, Felicia perplexed by the nature of of what her client discussed in the recording. She was unsure whether the context had nefarious intentions ,but whatever the case it wasn't her priority to determine that. She placed the recording back to where it was originally. As she did she turned her attention to a photo mounted into a plaque frame that was positioned beside the computers keyboard. She picked it up for a closer look and could see a photo of her client standing beside a wall smiling. Above him, was a banner with the words "Happy Retirement Ray!" printed across. Surrounding the photo was a number of signatures with accompanying sentimental messages from individuals who knew her client. At the bottom of the plaque, just under the photo, was an engraved metal rectangle with the message: "Happy Retirement Raymond from all of us here at Empire State University."

Felicia's heart suddenly sank as she dropped the plaque. It suddenly dawned on her, why the name seemed so familiar to her. She drew her hands to her face as her fingertips pinched her eyes. The realization brought a flood of old memories that only worsened Felicia's growing anxiety. Her client, Raymond Warren, was a former teacher at Empire State University, the very school she had attended when she was younger. Though she eventually dropped out, she remembered seeing him and even having him teach one of her science classes when her original teacher was unavailable. Had he recognized her? She thought back to his inquiry into her dialect, a recollection that only worsened her anxiety. She frantically picked up the plaque and placed it back to its original position.

"Crap," Felicia muttered as she noticed a slight crack had formed in the right corner of the frame. She had no time to remedy the frame and hurried out the room. She booted up her tablet and entered the code to close the door. She made her way towards the living room where she scanned around looking to see if her client had returned. She peered at her phone, realizing it'd only been about 17 minutes since he left. After about 5 agonizing minutes, he'd make his return.

"Oh sorry for the wait! I trust you're finished?" He asked as he approached Felicia.

"Oh yes, I have a full assessment right here and my recommendations." Felicia handed the man a number of papers with notes written denoting her recommendations for his residence. He peered through them as Felicia's eyes darted occassionally to the side as she hoped he would finally conclude their business.

"Wonderful! I've got crew coming to clean this place soon, but I want to go ahead with everything you've recommended. I'm leaving after tomorrow so can we schedule an installation three weeks from now?"

"Uh yes we can do that. Just go ahead and call our office when you're ready and we can have someone over soon."

"Great," he stretched his hand out. "Thanks for everything."

Felicia shook the mans hand as she smiled at him uneasily. She drew her hand away as she made her way to the exit and waved the man goodbye. During the ride down the elevator Felicia muttered to herself angrily.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid….."

Felicia exited the building quickly and made her way towards her car. She hoped in and drove off back to her office, back to her son, hoping to forget the mess she got herself into.