Chapter 15

James

I lean back on my chair exhausted. I didn't get any sleep thinking about what happened yesterday.

"DON'T HURT MY MOM!"

Seeing the kids in person hit home. They looked big yet so small.

I smile remembering the little boy earnestly attacking me to protect Catherine. My boy. An unfamiliar rush of what could only be fatherly pride warms my heart. Which of the boys is he? Arabic or Albinrion?

My thoughts then turn to the other little boy and the beautiful girl pulling on Catherine. The whole bunch has the protective streak.

I open one of my drawers, pulling out the kids' photos from the PI's report.

My kids. And you've missed eight years of their life. You dare call yourself their father?

I shake my head at the thought. Stop. Don't go there. It's too late though as dread weighs my heart.