On a rooftop of the Crag, Will stood transfixed at Franklin Greenwood’s side, staring at his father through thick one-way glass. His father, Hugh Greenwood, wore operating scrubs and was holding a scalpel to Elise’s throat as she lay unconscious on an operating table. Mr. Hobbes stood behind Hugh, pointing a pistol at his head. “That’s one-way glass,” said Franklin. “He can’t see or hear you, Will. And you have my solemn word that if you just do as I ask from this point forward, no harm will come to him, or Miss Moreau, or any of your friends.” “Why should I believe you? Why should I believe anything you say?” “Because, my dear boy, my name is Franklin Greenwood. I’m your grandfather.” Will didn’t hesitate and looked up at him decisively. “I’ll do whatever you say.” That single glimpse he’d been given of his father alive would inspire Will, in ways that Raymond would never know. They were both prisoners now, and still in terrible danger, but just knowing his dad was still alive was more than enough to fuel Will’s secret rage and keep him going.
