“No, he didn’t just stare at him, he devoured him. His son. Jesus, he was looking at his son. Sound ceased to exist. The world became nothing but one boy, one teenage kid with scruffy black hair, freckles and wide grey eyes wearing a dirt-smeared soccer uniform and a shell-shocked expression. One boy staring back at him.He sucked in a breath, unable to blink. He was numb. No, he was thrumming with so much energy he was going to burn up. No, he was…he was… Jesus, he was looking at his son.His son... who had no idea who he was.The thought punched Nick in the gut. Hard. And the world rushed back at him.“Mum?” Josh was saying. “Why is Nick Blackthorne standing in our house?” Nick listened to every vowel and consonant and syllable, noting the timbre and rhythm in his son’s speech. Josh’s voice must have only recently broken. It was deep, with just the slightest hint of a crack on the odd note. But there was a music to it as well, a strength. It rolled over Nick like a warm wave, making his gut clench and his chest squeeze.“Mum?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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