Sister!
dark heroJON closed the door behind them so no one could hear.
“Miss Sarah,” he said quietly, “how much do you really know about me?”
“Very little,” Mama replied. “I know you are Mr. Jon, CEO and owner of Brown Industries. I know you spend a large part of your fortune on charity. I know this orphanage still exists because of you, and for that, I am deeply grateful. But none of that is a reason to let you take Nezu with you.”
“Yes,” Jon said. “Everything you said is true. But it is not all the truth.”
He stopped speaking. His eyes swept the room, checking corners, windows, even the space beneath the desk, as if secrets could hide there.
“As you already know,” he continued, lowering his voice, “my wife and I cannot have children. We decided to adopt. What you don’t know is that seven years ago, I was looking for a son, not a daughter.”
Mama did not interrupt.
“Fate, however, had other plans,” Jon went on. “On the day we came to adopt, a baby arrived at the orphanage. Frail. Silent. That baby was Segu.”
His voice softened despite himself.
“My wife and I fell in love instantly. We adopted her.”
He inhaled, steadying himself.
“But I never stopped wanting a son. So I waited. I let Segu grow, made sure she would be ready, strong enough to accept a brother.”
“When she was four, I started searching again. And that’s when something strange happened.”
“No matter where I looked, children were afraid. Afraid of Segu. They didn’t know why. They just were.”
Mama’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“It happened again and again. Eventually, I almost gave up. But during my business trips, I kept sending Segu to play in orphanages I sponsor, hoping to find me a son and a brother for her.”
“And that,” Jon said quietly, “brings us to today. A seven-year search that finally paid off.”
He clenched his fists.
“And now Dr. Smith has given me another reason. Nezu is a genius. A good one. I will use everything I have to try to help him.”
His voice hardened.
“No one deserves to live emotionless.”
Jon met Mama’s gaze.
“So tell me, Miss Sarah. Is that enough reason to take Nezu with me?”
Mama smiled faintly.
“You know, Mr. Jon,” she said, “one of the advantages of leading this place for so long is that I’ve met every kind of person.”
“High society people like you. Poor people. Loud people. Quiet people. Every kind.”
She paused.
“And when this conversation happens, every single one tells me what they think I want to hear.”
Her brow furrowed, eyebrows lifting as concern and calculation crossed her face, the look she reserved for Nezu, a child who made others uneasy without ever understanding why.
“So I learned to listen differently. Not to words, but to what’s behind them. Feelings cannot be faked.”
“It took me years to learn this,” she continued. “But now almost no one escapes it.”
She nodded once.
“You are hiding something from me,” she said calmly. “But what you told me was genuine.”
“You may take Segu with you.”
Jon blinked.
Mama turned and opened the door, signaling the conversation was over.
“Oh,” she added, almost casually, “one more thing, Mr. Jon.”
“The only person whose feelings I cannot read, whose words carry no echo, is Nezu.”
She gestured down the corridor.
“Go straight ahead until the old wooden door. You’ll find Nezu and Miss Segu there.”
The children were playing in the Heroes’ Lair.
Nezu watched Segu move through the room like sunlight given shape. Today, something about her presence overwhelmed the space too bright, too alive.
He tilted his head.
“Why do you look like a ray of sunshine today?” he asked.
Segu giggled, turning away.
“I wonder why,” she said lightly. “It’s a good thing. You’ll understand soon.”
Sooner than she expected.
The door opened.
Jon stepped into the Heroes’ Lair and stopped. The walls were covered in clippings, sketches, maps, and notes. It looked less like a playroom and more like an unorganized journalist’s archive.
He smiled.
Jon took Segu’s hand.
“Nezu,” he asked gently, “would you like to be my son?”
“And would you like to be Segu’s brother?”
Nezu froze.
His mind did not go empty, it overloaded.
Unknown variables. New environment. Permanent change.
He said nothing.
Seconds passed.
Segu squeezed his hand.
“Yes,” Nezu said at last. Not loud. Not joyful. Just certain.
“Yes.”
He turned to Segu slowly, studying her face.
“You would be my sister?”
Segu nodded, tears forming.
Nezu hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her carefully, unsure of the correct pressure.
“Sister,” he said, testing the word.
She hugged him tightly.
“But shouldn’t you hug your father first?” Jon asked.
Nezu stopped.
This man is a stranger. He says he is my father. What is the correct response?
He stepped forward stiffly and placed his arms around Jon’s torso.
The sensation was unfamiliar. Warm. Confining.
His mind searched for a comparison and found none.
Jon’s arms closed around him firmly.
Nezu stiffened, then allowed it.
Not because it felt right.
Because it felt necessary.
“I will leave you here tonight,” Jon said softly. “Say your goodbyes. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll bring you home.”
“Alright, fa… father,” Nezu replied, the word awkward on his tongue. “I will see you tomorrow.”
Jon held him for a moment longer.
Seven years. Finally.
Then he let go.
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