"You're back. Have a seat."
In the study, the old man raised his eyes. His gaze lingered on him for a moment before he looked away with a faint smile.
Hayes Hughes offered a greeting and walked to the side to sit down.
As a doctor, Hayes was particularly sensitive to the smell of blood. The metallic scent still hung in the air, and his eyes were drawn almost immediately to the stains on the square table.
'That must be from Silas.'
'Judging by the amount of blood, the injury is serious.'
'A puncture wound couldn't be ruled out.'
'If so…' Hayes felt for the fountain pen in his pocket.
As a doctor, he was in the habit of always carrying a pen.
He mentally compared its length to the likely puncture wound. 'A portion of the weapon, maybe as long as the pen's barrel, must have plunged into his flesh.'
The hand in his pocket, rubbing against the barrel of the pen, tightened.
'Grandfather could be so ruthless even to his favorite grandson. What would he do to Mia Grant…'
