CH 50: A Favour Paid Three Times Over

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It was past midnight, yet Amar couldn't help but toss and turn. Sleep should have come easy—he had barely slept the last few days. The pain meds for his fractured hand were finally fading off, and the sting of the wound was slowly growing sharper. But something about his conversation at the train station didn't sit right with him.

He had been getting down from the train, struggling to manage his luggage single-handedly, when someone stepped in and rather abruptly took his trolley and suitcase for him.

The person in front of him could have dyed his hair black, but Amar would have recognised him anywhere. There was no mistaking the sharpness in his dark brown eyes—they were a reflection of his own.

Amar hadn't seen David for the better part of five years—ever since he turned eighteen and disappeared with his gifts.

Some things had changed since then. For the better, perhaps. David had clearly filled out into his body, no longer the tall, lanky teen Amar remembered, but a broad-shouldered young man who looked like he were used to carrying burdens heavier than mare suitcases.

Amar suppressed the relief that stirred in his chest on seeing him alive. It was the least he could feel, he realized, after what he'd done to his mother. But for now, he forced himself into a neutral tone as he greeted him. "Good to see you too, Dave."

David didn't meet his eyes. His voice was clipped— not so different from the boy he'd once known. "I don't go by that name anymore, Old Man."

For the record, Amar wasn't even twice his age, but he let the jab slide. He was just grateful that the boy wasn't behind bars, despite his quick to anger attitude and violent impulses. Or maybe it was something that happened just around him.

"What would you have me call you instead?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Is this your way of volunteering to share your new identity?"

David snorted. "What use would that be? The whole point of that name was to give me a life of my own, disconnected from you."

Amar nodded slowly, conceding the point. "Then I suppose I've no choice but to call you what I know you by."

David muttered under his breath, "I suppose so."

Amar bit back a smile. He had no intention of fueling David's anger any more than absolutely necessary.

"So, was this just a coincidence—" Amar started, knowing damn well it wasn't.

David bit right in. "For someone with access to all kinds of resources like you do, you sure as hell have no idea of what's going on under your own nose!" He snapped, pulling the trolley roughly behind him.

Amar didn't want to lose the conversation to their emotions this soon. After all, he had no idea of when he'd see him next. "I don't misuse my privilege, Dave. You of all people should be grateful for that. And for your information, I'm confident that I know enough."

David looked up at the sky then, cursing the gods above under his breath—a odd habit he'd picked up from his mother, even if he wasn't old enough to remember her.

For whatever it's worth, he was glad David didn't beat around the bush, and got straight to the point. "Your niece needs to know the truth."

That stopped Amar cold. Of all the topics he'd expected to argue with David about today, this hadn't even made it to the list. "First thing, stop calling her my niece. She's my daughter, whether you accept it or don't. And secondly, I don't see how that is any of your goddamn business. I'll tell her when the time is right."

"You can't still be going on with that nonsense, except you can, because you know nothing!" David muttered, suddenly bringing them both to a halt. "She's been under your care for fifteen years, Amar. This little play at house might have made sense in the beginning, but it needs to end now."

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