“I would suspect your son… or maybe a nephew?”
“Save my son from what, exactly?”
“What is it Claire?” a middle-aged man grumbled
as he came down the stairs. He stopped when he saw me
and swallowed hard. His eyes darted toward Claire. “I told
you not to let anyone in.”
“I couldn’t stop him, but he says he can help save
Dylan.”
The man’s breathing shifted into an almost sullen
disbelief as oxygen left his lungs. His breath stuttered as he
took in more air, and he slowly made his way down to us.
As he approached, his eyes bore into me, questions racing
in their reflection.
“Who are you?”
“Matthias Kade. I’m here to help.”
“How did you know – I mean, what makes you
think we need your help?”
“I’ll explain afterwards, sir. But right now, time is
of the essence. The more time we waste, the more time
your son falls out of my reach.”
“He’s a doctor, Herald,” Claire reassured.
“He’s no older than Dyl. There’s no way he’s a –”
“My card, sir.”
Herald was surprised to find my outstretched arm
in front of him, with card between my index and middle
fingers, waiting for his acceptance. He slowly took it,
watching me intently. Then he reached into his back
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