Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

The commotion drew glances from everyone nearby. Aaron cleared his throat a few times and looked over. "Simon, you seem out of it."

Simon kept his head down, staring at the blood on his palm where his fingernails had dug in. He masked the bitterness in his eyes.

“Just... family stuff getting to me,” he muttered.

The room fell silent again, everyone quietly focusing on their food.

After dinner, Walter called Dylan aside.

"Go check on your mother. Is your back any better?"

It still wasn't fully healed-just scabbed over.

"Yeah," Dylan replied.

He wheeled himself toward the family shrine. The chapel was a long way from the main hall, down several echoing corridors. Above the door, an ornate plaque read "Ferguson Family Chapel." Inside, a few golden prayer cushions were spread out. Mrs. Ferguson was already kneeling on one, her back straight and composed.

The incense burning here was a special blend-its scent was unique, impossible to find anywhere else.

"Mother," Dylan called softly.

Ferguson's fingers paused on her prayer beads. She opened her eyes slowly, as if surfacing from deep

days ago. Are you feeling better?" she

"I'm fine."

of incense, and placed it in the

abroad, didn't they say you'd be starting

face him and sighed when she saw his expression. "You used to talk so much more, Dylan. Always

voice faded, and she knelt

still blame your father and me for what we did back then? Someone had to make a sacrifice so you could be

rolled the beads between her fingers, her voice

it. He thought being sent away was a test, that if he just worked hard enough, someone would eventually come for him. I've never stopped

at her back, lips pressed

good. Once he was chosen, he stopped being part of the Ferguson family. That was his fate. For his sake-and

glanced down

there, silent, his hands resting quietly on the arms

to the real

meant

wife. As for the woman who caused your injury, you said she saved you overseas, so we let it

you found out about him. It's been over twenty years. It's time. I'll make arrangements-you just

he has a lot to say