"Enough. Connor's coming home tomorrow."And stop the compound. He's our own son, and he's suffered long enough."Once Connor's settled, we'll make it up to him."My father sighed.He never noticed that I was awake in the hospital bed.The cold went through me all at once.They'd been poisoning me. For Connor.Three years.One "treatment compound" they'd paid a fortune for.It had taken a six-foot-two man and ground him down to barely 100 pounds.Every time I crashed and they brought me back, I'd bring up close to half the blood in my body.And every time, white as a sheet, I'd tell them not to worry.Looking back now, they must have thought that was hilarious.The rust taste in my mouth got stronger."It's all right, Dad."My fiancee, Vivienne Whitfield, spoke up."The compound does a lot of damage, I know."But I got Gabriel a protective antidote a long time ago. As long as he keeps taking it, nothing permanent is going to happen to him."Besides, we'd never have go
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