At the Pearson estate, the wrought-iron gates of the courtyard slowly swung inward.Chapman descended the steps, his footing slightly unsteady.When he saw the motionless, deathly pale figure lying on the gurney, his first reaction was almost ordinary--Daniel had always been this quiet when he slept.Only this time, the faint crease that usually lingered between his son's brows, even in sleep, was gone.His face was calm to the point of serenity, like an ordinary man who had finally set down every burden he had carried."Sir, he--" the adjutant beside him began quietly."Don't speak." Chapman raised a hand to stop him. His voice was soft.He walked to the side of the gurney and slowly reached out, his fingertips touching his son's icy cheek with extreme care, as though afraid of disturbing something fragile."Don't wake him," he murmured, his gaze roaming over Daniel's face, his tone drifting like a dream. "My son... look at his brows, his eyes. Just like me when I was young.""Sir, p
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