The silence in the room was deafening. The only sound was Kieran's ragged breathing as he stared at the grainy video of his son, alive and safe—a truth he hadn't dared to hope for in two long, agonizing years.
Zack, still bound to the chair, watched him carefully. He could see the cracks forming in Kieran's resolve, the flicker of something raw and painful in his eyes. The blind rage that had fueled his every action was now warring with a father's desperate longing.
"You can still fix this, Kieran," Zack said, his voice steady despite the ache in his ribs. "Nothing is lost—not yet. You have a path forward, a way back to him."
Kieran's hands clenched at his sides. His entire body was trembling with restrained fury, grief, and disbelief. "You don't get it, Zack," he bit out. "If what you're saying is true—if she betrayed me—then I've wasted the last two years hunting the wrong enemy. I built my life on revenge, and now you're telling me it was all a lie?"
