Eddison Flynn groaned, his body a map of blooming purple bruises as he crawled toward the Pagani. Every movement felt like glass grinding in his joints. He had just reached for the door handle when the sharp, rhythmic purr of a Maserati Levante cut through the humid morning air. Eva Flynn pulled up to the curb, her face a mask of practiced aristocratic concern as the rest of the family piled out of the luxury SUV.
Eddison nearly burst into tears the moment he saw them. "You're finally here..." he wheezed, his voice cracking.
Naomi Moore didn't even wait for the car to fully stop before she lunged out, her heels clicking frantically on the pavement. "My baby! My poor, beautiful boy!" she wailed, rushing to her son’s side. She reached out to touch his matted hair, but Eddison flinched viol
