Wings of Broken Time by Alina Das 558
“Have the nurses reattach his tendons,” he instructed Crispin.
“Understood,” Crispin replied.
Without another word, Haskell turned to leave.
“You can’t do this to me!” Thatch wailed. “No matter what I’ve done, I’m still your father! You can’t
raise a hand against your own flesh and blood! People will despise you for it! Your grandfather would never approve…”
“Just let me go this one time! I swear I’ll be a better father! I’ll make up for all the love you’ve missed…”
His pleas were answered by the sound of the door clicking shut.
Outside, Larissa was leaning against the wall, looking bored. She squatted down, opened her backpack, and began arranging a collection of strange objects on the floor–the interrogation tools she had prepared. She examined each one with an almost artistic appreciation.
When she heard the door open, she looked up.
“Finished already?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
The room was well soundproofed, but she had still heard the faint echoes of screaming. It seemed Haskell hadn’t held back.
Haskell closed the door, his face unreadable. “He confessed everything once he realized I was serious about crippling him.”
Larissa began packing her tools away, one by one. “You should have done this a long time ago. Thatch was never a father worthy of your mercy.”
Haskell gave a bitter smile. “You’re right. My past mercy only prolonged the danger my brother was
in.”
She zipped up her bag and looked at him. “So, do you have a lead on his whereabouts?”
Haskell told her what he had learned from Thatch.
“The Gertrude was already old back then,” Larissa mused. “I’ll help you investigate her. I have a feeling we’ll find a clue about your brother very soon.”
Haskell took her hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of it.
“Larissa, ever since I met you, you’ve been the one helping me. I feel like I’ve done so little for you in return.”
“If it makes you feel guilty,” she said with a playful glint in her eye, “you can make it up to me with your actions after we find your brother and get married.”
Understanding her meaning, Haskell’s heart stirred, and he smiled. “I will. You can count on it, Larissa.”
Chapter 558
Honora, her face still wrapped in bandages from her reconstructive surgery, was escorted by two of Lucius’s bodyguards to a prestigious finishing school in Regal City. The academy was located in the city’s most affluent district, its decor opulent and refined,
“Trudy, Mr. Lincoln’s delivery is here,” one of the bodyguards announced as they entered a spacious, sunlit office.
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