My body tightened, muscles constricted. I took a
deep, long breath, then licked the front of my lips –
anything to nullify my temper. I felt like a wolf tracking his
prey, ready to pounce, and wondered if my appearance
said as much. “I’m sorry but there is nothing to report.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I must retrieve my bag.” Taking
my leave, I walked past Dylan’s parents and down the
stairs.
Herald and Claire caught each other’s questioning
glares and came together in a whisper. As if a game plan
made, he clambered after me as she opened the door to
view Dylan still sleeping. I was already at the front door
when Herald scuddled down the steps, stopping at the
landing.
“Mister Kinkade!”
His voice echoed in my ears. I could barely stand
it. I stopped, my hand on the doorknob, but I didn’t turn
around. Instead, I barely responded. “Yes?”
“Where are you going? Are you coming back?
When? What about my son?”
I didn’t dare turn around for fear of what my eyes
might tell. My blood was boiling. I needed air. But I had to
resume my polite demeanor. After all, he was just a father
fighting for his child’s life, and I knew all too well what it
was to lose a loved one. I finally turned, a soft smile on my
face, to meet his gaze.
“I understand your concern, Mister Foster, but we
need to stay calm right now. Dylan is depending on us,
right? I can’t treat him properly without my medical bag.
I’m staying at the Sentrigard Hotel & Suites on Piccadilly.
I’ll only be gone a few minutes. I promise.”
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