Our son (part 2)

With the strength draining from her legs, Adela allowed herself to sink into the chair beneath her. She swallowed her fatigue, staring into Egon's large, glistening eyes.

"Seven years, My Lord. Seven long years... You come to me after all that time has passed, still the same blind man who never truly knew me. You barge into my room at night with that artifact in your hand, still doubting the identity of my son's father."

...Oblivious to the fact that I can only ever be with you.

She bit down hard on her lower lip and shifted her gaze to the papers on her bureau, determined not to shed tears in front of a man who didn't deserve them. When she finally raised her eyes to look at him again, his face had settled into a thoroughly expressionless state.

"You have no idea what it's like to grow up without a father," he spoke in a low, despondent tone. "I know exactly what that's like."