Walking Target

Scott's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his paternal and maternal—family name. It sounded important, weighty, and something in his gut told him it was crucial to the mystery of the attack.

His eyes flicked from his father to his mother, both of them now visibly tense, as though bracing themselves for a truth they knew would be difficult to share.

Melissa reached out, her hands trembling slightly as she took Scott's in hers. Her touch was warm, comforting, but her eyes held a flicker of fear, an unspoken depth of worry that made Scott's chest tighten. She gave his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, her gaze shifting briefly to Richard before returning to Scott.

"Whatever it is," Scott said, his voice steady despite the unease clawing at him, "I'm ready."

His parents exchanged a glance and took a deep breath, their faces etched with hesitation.