Chapter 207

Leo Miller's fingers trembled slightly as he dialed Andrew Lucas' number. The sky hadn't yet brightened at 5 AM, and he expected to hear voicemail.

The call connected on the first ring.

"The results?" Andrew's voice sounded raw, like sandpaper had scraped his throat.

Leo snapped to attention, spine rigid as a soldier's. "Boss, Daniel Almond—no, Daniel Lucas! The DNA match is 99.99%. He's definitely your biological son!"

A glass shattered on the other end of the line.

"I supervised the entire testing process. No mistakes." Leo added urgently, "Should I deliver the report now?"

Andrew's breathing grew heavy through the receiver. Memories flashed—calling the child a "bastard," Susan Thompson kneeling in the rain, begging him to save Daniel.

Each recollection cut deeper than a blade.

"Don't tell my parents yet." Andrew's voice shook. "I'll bring them home myself."

After hanging up, Andrew staggered to the floor-to-ceiling window. Dawn broke through the clouds, yet darkness clouded his vision. The damage was bone-deep. How could he possibly make amends?

He grabbed his car keys and rushed out, but hesitated after starting the engine. Fear of facing them paralyzed him.

Finally, he turned the wheel toward Benjamin Nash's residence.

——

In the old district's small square, morning mist lingered. Nannies chatted on benches, occasionally glancing at the playing children.

Daniel gripped the railing, practicing walking. His thin face, gaunt after the fall, was tense with concentration. Each step required visible effort.

"Look at the cripple!" A chubby boy suddenly pointed and laughed. "Walks like Donald Duck!"

Five children formed a circle, exaggeratedly mimicking Daniel's gait. One deliberately bumped his shoulder. Daniel swayed but clung to the railing.

"My mom says lameness is contagious!" A girl with pigtails shrieked, scrambling back.

Daniel pressed his lips together, eyelashes fluttering. He remembered his mother's swollen eyes and slowly unclenched his fists.

No crying. Crying would make Mom sad.

Andrew stood behind a plane tree, knuckles whitening. This bullied child who refused to fight back shared his blood.

Then he saw it—the profile unmistakably bearing the Lucas family features.