"He is your biological son! Does he mean less to you than one of Claire's dogs?"
Leon frowned, impatience dripping from every syllable. "I told you, I chose by proximity. That was a professional judgment to maximize the success rate."
A pause. Then, quieter:
"Besides, if he hadn't been running around, how would the criminal have strapped a bomb to him in the first place?"
My heart seized.
Our son had been blown up. He was bleeding in my arms.
And his father showed zero concern—only blame.
I didn't have the energy to argue. I just needed to get my son to the hospital.
Clutching David's broken body, I rushed toward the exit.
Just as we cleared the warehouse doors, Claire let out a startled gasp. "Oh!"
Her foot shot out, subtly kicking the dog. The golden retriever yelped and bolted into the distance. Claire immediately loosened the leash in her hand.
She bit her lip, tears welling perfectly in her eyes. "What do I do? A-Jin must be terrified."
"Leon, I can't live without A-Jin!"
Leon stopped dead. The indifference vanished, replaced by urgency. "It's too dangerous here. The perimeter hasn't been cleared of secondary devices. We can't let A-Jin roam free."