No Cara either.He wiggled his fingers and toes then moved to his arms and legs when nothing hurt. By the time he’d sat up, the only thing that hurt was his stomach. He was starving.He looked around, noticing the complete absence of light around the windows. Must be night. At this time of the year, that had to mean it was after nine p.m.Now sitting on the edge of the bed, he listened to the sounds of the house, hearing a faint rumble of adult voices. Not close. Probably downstairs.Out of bed, he found his clothes folded on the chest against the side wall. Now dressed, he headed out to find the voices.And froze in the hall when he felt the presence of his son close by. Concentrating, he let his connection to Aron draw him to the room two doors down the hall.His chest tightened with anxiety and a deep-seated longing to see his son.The door was cracked open so it only took a small push for it to swing wide enough to let him in.And his heart nearly beat out of his chest when the boy stirred in the bed and looked straight at him.Michael froze, dreading the moment Aron would scream in fright at the strange man standing in his dark room.
