Chapter 15

Frank looked for a resemblance. Liam was blond like his mother. Vaughn’s hair had been gray when Frank met him. Maybe he had once been blond too. The shape of their faces, particularly their noses, made them look as if they might share lineage, Frank supposed.

“Liam.” Vaughn touched his son’s clean shaven cheek. “This is Franklin.” Either Marion or Vaughn must have tended to shaving him regularly.

There were many faded scars—large and small—all over Liam’s face and torso, injuries from the crash, presumably, and whatever surgeries followed to fix the damage. The crisscrosses and lines were all healing. Some had nearly faded away, in fact, only noticeable now because of the intense wattage, bright lamps connected to current.

Suddenly, lightning flashed blue off of all the white and metal in the room. Frank jumped again. More current. “How long has he been here at the house?” he asked. “Like this?”

“Only a month. We brought him home from a facility.”