"Eiran is… my child?" Ren whispered, the words trembling in his throat. Too fragile to speak aloud, yet the thought alone stung at the corners of his eyes. Tears gathered—tears he didn't dare to shed—but they were tears of joy.
If he was right, it meant his child had been by his side all along.
If. His heart raced at the possibility alone.
"And… That means… I failed to recognize him?" His lips quivered—not from cold, but from fear, guilt, and disgust at himself. "What kind of father am I?" He pressed his teeth against his lips hard, eyes closing as if to shut it all out, holding himself still.
But nothing was confirmed yet. Nothing at all.
"I need to confirm." He rose from the chair; the chair screeched against the floor.
When he opened the door, darkness greeted him. To his left—no light. To his right—none either.
