“What hospital?”
Twenty minutes later they burst through emergency room doors.
The boy pointed toward a room at the end of the hallway.
Damian walked in slowly.
And stopped breathing.
Marcus Kane was lying there.
Older.
Weaker.
But alive.
Machines beeped beside him.
Damian moved closer.
Fifteen years.
Fifteen years believing his friend was dead.
Suddenly Marcus’s eyes opened slightly.
He smiled.
“You still wear black suits.”
Damian almost laughed.
Almost.
“You let me think you died.”
Marcus looked at the boy standing in the doorway.
“I had enemies,” he whispered. “If they knew I survived… they would’ve hunted my son too.”
Damian stared at him.
Then Marcus slowly raised his shaking hand.
“There is something I never told you.”
Damian frowned.
Marcus looked toward the boy.
Then back at Damian.
“He isn’t just my son.”
Silence.
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
Marcus swallowed.
“He’s yours.”
Damian froze.
The boy stared.
“No…”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I was protecting both of you.”
