Micah lay motionless on the padded bed, his head turned slightly to one side as Uncle Lin carefully inserted the next thin needle into his arm.
Micah pressed his lips together. "I know you advised me not to stray from my goal, that the universe had chosen me to carry this responsibility for a reason, that maybe I'm the last hope…" he paused, "But it's really hard to…" his voice faltered. He swallowed hard, gaze flickering toward Uncle Lin before darting away, ashamed of sounding weak.
Uncle Lin's hand paused in midair, the last needle balanced deliberately between his fingers. His eyes narrowed, creases deepening across his weathered face. To him, the boy's hesitation carried a different meaning. His heart sank like a stone tossed into the water. Did Micah mean it was hard because of Clyde?
