Jack

“How are you, son?” Father’s deep voice rumbled from where he stood, solid as always. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Father. I’m good,” I replied, offering him a smile.

“Good.”

That was Father - a man who could say volumes in a single word. He’d never been one for lengthy conversations.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

“Those bastards!” Mother’s voice turned sharp as a blade, making me flinch. “Lucas brought you here.”

“If not for him,” Father’s voice grew ...