Vincent stepped back slightly. Though his eyes still glistened, but now they have softened, as a warmth replaced the earlier storm of disbelief. He placed a firm hand on Max’s shoulder, his voice steady yet tender. "Welcome home, my boy," he said, the words carrying genuine acceptance and relief, as if he were reclaiming a lost son.
Evelyn, still frozen for a moment in surprise, finally found her voice. She walked toward Max, her steps cautious but curious. "Did… did grandfather really raise you?" she asked, eyes wide, searching his face for truth.
Max held her gaze steadily with the faintest glint of something unreadable in his eyes. His expression remained calm, composed, almost casual while his heart was still a frozen vault, and his thoughts hidden beneath layers of practiced control
