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Cameron opened his eyes. He was finally cognizant. He wasn't sure how long he'd been hospitalized, but he was ready to be out of there. He glanced down at his arm. It was covered in a thick layer of gauze, but he could see his fingers sticking out the end. He flexed them, and they moved. Thank God, he thought. He wasn't ready to live with just one arm yet.

"How are you feeling?" Someone was sitting in the chair opposite the bed that he hadn't noticed yet. It was his stepfather.

"I'm okay," he said groggily and stretched what little he could in the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm just checking on you," his stepfather said. He was sat down in the leather chair with a leg propped up on his lap.

"Why?" Cameron sat up a little straighter in bed. "You've never cared before."

His stepfather sat on the edge of his seat and looked straight into Cameron's eyes with a piercing stare, "I have always cared. Whether or not you were of it, I care."

"Funny way of showing it," Cameron muttered to
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