Chapter 28

The grand dining room of the Adam's mansion was eerily quiet, save for the occasional clink of silverware against fine china. Morris sat at the head of the table, his posture as rigid as the cold air that lingered between the walls. His eyes were fixed on the plate before him, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

Across from him, Ivan stared into his untouched food, a deep frown etched on his young face. Morris noticed the boy's unusual silence and turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing with concern. "Ivan, what's troubling you?" Morris's voice, though gentle, carried the weight of authority.

Ivan hesitated, his small hand reaching out to clutch his father's. The touch was tentative, almost as if he feared rejection. "Dad... I'm worried about Chris," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's alone in the hospital. Can't we go see him?"

Morris stiffened, his hand instinctively tightening around his son's.

The name "Chris" seemed to echo in the room, hanging heavy