Justin Battleson remained silent, simply holding Charlotte Thompson quietly.
He was much taller than Charlotte, so when he placed his chin on her shoulder, he had to hunch slightly, and this curled-up posture inexplicably gave off a sense of vulnerability.
Charlotte naturally knew what Justin was thinking.
Her gaze drifted to the plain white ceiling of the corridor, the stark color dizzying to the eyes.
This was a hospital, and the air should have been filled with the scent of disinfectant, yet when Charlotte took a deep breath, what she smelled was the same gloomy dampness as that in the secret room.
But Charlotte had already reached out and wrapped her arms around Justin's back, even tightening her hold.
"What... are you planning to do?"
Justin had actually met Oliver Battleson earlier, but in the end, what allowed the father and son to finally sit face to face after all these years was still Charlotte.
