Chapter 9 · Prints on the Poison

The old man's hand shot out and grabbed Silas by the wrist.

"Daniel." His voice cracked. "You came back."

Vivian's stomach dropped. She'd brought Silas here to show him what was at stake, not to give her father false hope. But the way the old man was looking at him, like Christmas morning and answered prayers rolled into one, she couldn't take it back now.

Silas went still. For a second Vivian thought he'd pull away, blow the whole thing. Then he knelt beside the bed and let her father clutch his hand.

"I'm here," Silas said quietly.

"Thought I'd lost you." Tears leaked from the corners of the old man's eyes. "Thought I'd never see you again."

"I'm sorry it took so long."

Vivian turned away. She couldn't watch this. Couldn't stand there while a con man played son to a dying man who wanted his boy back so badly he'd believe anyone.

But then her father said, "Vivian. Come here."

She came. What else could she do.

He reached for her hand, pulled her close so he had both of them.