The rain pattered steadily, speckling his face.
Nia Mitchell moved to close the window slightly.
"Uncle, I don't want to rest; I want to stay with you."
This, perhaps, was the most touching thing Nia had said so far.
Maxwell Peary walked over to a sofa and sat down, covering his face with a hand.
"When I first met him, he was fond of guns, unusually rebellious. He was the most unruly person in the compound."
Nia paused, realizing that the 'him' in Maxwell's narration referred to Yancy Hastings, and thus, she quietly assumed her role as a listener.
"Despite his demeanor, he would never reveal his deepest thoughts."
Only once, Yancy Hastings had been heavily injured and took a long time to regain consciousness after extensive medical efforts. When I saw him then, that man of iron will had slightly reddened eyes.
All he said was, "Brother, I thought I would never see you again in this life."
One could only imagine how desperate and helpless Yancy must have been then.
