Max stepped out of the bathroom, his mind still spinning from the phone call, though the words he'd spoken barely registered anymore.
Right now, he didn't care what anyone thought about him, about the choices he had made, about the truth behind who he really was. All of that was noise, background static to the one thing echoing in his head: Jay.
How can I help him? How do I let his soul rest a little easier?
But as Max returned to the reception area, he was not prepared for what waited for him.
His footsteps halted instantly. Every instinct told him to turn back, to walk the other way.
In the hallway, flanked by a guard and standing opposite Aron, was a young girl.
Calling her a little girl didn't quite capture it. She was tall for her age, maybe around 150 centimeters, but there was a softness to her round cheeks and her wide, expressive eyes. The gentle slope of her face, the light brown hair tied back into a neat ponytail, all reminded Max of someone.
