The gunshot cracked through the room like thunder splitting open the sky. For a moment, just a single endless moment, nothing happened. Just silence and wide eyes. The sound hung in the air, suspended. Jaxon's body went rigid instantly. Judy's hand dropped to her side, the gun slipping from her trembling fingers to clatter on the floor with a hollow thud. A piercing terrifying screen tore through the room. It was the kind of scream that came from somewhere deep inside a person. Nurses rushed from the corridor, their shoes slapping against the linoleum whilst their voices layering over each other in confusion and panic. "What happened? What was that?" "Someone call security!" "Is anyone hurt?" Jaxon on the other hand stood motionless, his eyes fixed on something far away, as though he could see through the walls. His white shirt was stained dark red, the blood spreading slowly across the fabric. He did not move. He did not speak. His mouth opened and closed like a fish pu

Jaxon stared at Maryon, his mind struggling to catch up with what she was saying. The machines around her beeped steadily, measuring the slow decline of her body."What does that mean?" he asked again, though her words were already settling into him like stones dropping into water. He was confused as well as scared.Maryon's eyes stayed fixed on his. Her breathing had become shallow, each breath seeming to take effort she barely had left to give."Charles's not the true son," she whispered. "You are the true heir to the Harrow legacy. That is why they feared you. That is why they have done everything they could to keep you away, to keep you hidden, to keep you from knowing."Jaxon felt the ground shift beneath him like it could open and swallow this truth away from him. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but nothing came out."The black file," Maryon continued, her voice fading further. "It is hidden in the Governor's study behind his portrait. Find it, Jaxon. It has ever

The rain fell without mercy over Hollowbridge. Jaxon sat in his car in an abandoned parking lot on the outskirts of the district, the engine off, the windows fogged with his own breath. Water drummed against the roof, ran down the windscreen in long streams, blurred the world outside until it looked like nothing more than shapes and shadows.The black file sat on his lap. He had opened it again, spread the pages across the passenger seat, across his knees, everywhere he could see them. Birth records. DNA reports. Hospital transfer orders. Signed documents with official stamps and the Governor's own handwriting.Every single page confirmed what Maryon had told him. He was not Jaxon Mason, the orphan who had worked his way up from nothing. He was the Harrows' lost son. The child they had tried to erase.He read through the DNA report again, his eyes tracing the lines that proved his biological connection to Governor Harrow and his late wife. The percentages were absolute. There was no

By morning, the city had turned against him. Jaxon woke to the sound of voices from the television in the apartment's small living room. Dr. Shirley had left it on, tuned to the news channel, and the volume was just loud enough for him to hear from where he lay on the sofa. He sat up slowly, his body aching from the fight with Charles, from the sleepless night, from everything that had happened in the past days. The screen showed his face, his hospital identification photo, blown up to fill the frame. The news anchor's voice was crisp and professional. "Jaxon Mason, the man authorities are calling a fraud and impostor, remains at large this morning. Mason, who was intially a Janitor claimed to be a licensed surgeon at Brattson Diagnostics Hospital, is now wanted in connection with multiple crimes, including identity theft, document forgery, and possible involvement in the death of Governor Harrow." Jaxon stared at the screen. His own face looked back at him, frozen in that o

The rain came softly the next morning, quietly, washing the streets clean while the city woke up around it. Jaxon sat in a small motel room on the outskirts of Hollowbridge, staring out the window at the grey sky. The motel was cheap, the kind of place that did not ask questions and accepted cash without requiring identification. He had checked in late the night before, using a false name, keeping his face turned away from the clerk's tired gaze. The black file rested on the table beside him, open to the last page. The Governor's signature was there, unmistakable, confirming everything Jaxon had learned. He had read it a dozen times already, but he read it again now, slower this time, making absolutely certain his mind was not playing tricks on him. "Jaxon Harrow, biological son of Governor Edmund Harrow and Eleanor Harrow, born 09-10-79 at Hollowbridge Hospital. Transfer authorized under classified order. All records to be sealed. New identity: Jaxon Mason." The words w