For several seconds, nobody moved.
The photograph remained in Noah's hand.
The emergency lights above them flickered weakly, casting the room in alternating shades of red and darkness. Somewhere beyond the steel door, footsteps echoed through the abandoned building.
But Noah barely heard them.
He was staring at the photograph.
His father stood in the center, younger than Noah had ever remembered him. One hand rested protectively on Noah's small shoulder. Noah himself couldn't have been more than six years old.
And behind them...
Victor.
Not twenty years older.
Not the ruthless man they had hunted.
Not the monster who had ordered countless crimes.
A younger Victor.
Smiling.
Standing close enough to Noah's father that there could be no mistake.
Aiden stepped closer.
"Noah."
No response.
"Noah, look at me."
Noah finally blinked.
"I remember this day."
Matthew's expression sharpened.
"You do?"
"Not Victor."
Noah's fingers tightened around the photograph.
