Chapter 9: A Call for Help
I walked away from the park, my mind racing with thoughts of Johann and his struggles. I knew that I had to do something to help him, but I didn't know what.
As I walked, I stumbled upon an old phone booth. It was a relic of the past, but it sparked an idea in my mind.
I quickly dialed a number, one that I hadn't called in years. It rang several times before a deep voice answered.
"Lune Longstern speaking."
My heart skipped a beat as I heard my father's voice. It had been years since we last spoke, and I wasn't sure if he'd even want to talk to me.
"Hi, Dad," I said, trying to sound calm.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Lude? Is that you?"
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Yeah, it's me."
"What's going on, son?" my father asked, his voice softening.
I took a deep breath and launched into the story of Johann's struggles, of his withdrawal and his pain. My father listened attentively, asking occasional questions.
As I spoke, I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders. It was like I was sharing the burden of Johann's struggles with my father.
When I finished, my father was silent for a moment. "I'm coming home," he said finally.
I felt a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, my father could help Johann. Maybe he could help our family heal.
"Thanks, Dad," I said, feeling a sense of gratitude.
"Don't thank me yet, son," my father said. "We've got a lot of work to do."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. I knew that my father was right. We did have a lot of work to do.
But for the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of hope.
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