Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped out of my thoughts. An instinctive urge to flee surged through , and I shot to my feet. But as I turned, I was t with the intense, unwavering gaze of Mr. Drails.
I was certain—absolutely certain—that my fate was sealed. This was it.
"Connor," Mr. Drails said, his voice calm yet heavy. "What's going on?"
I couldn't find the words to answer. But the silence broke when his eyes fell on the birth certificate in my hand. His gaze flickered with brief, unmistakable surprise. With a sigh, he stepped forward and gently took the docunt from .
"Well," he said quietly, his tone resigned. "It seems you've discovered it." Another deep sigh escaped him—one that carried the weight of years. "This has been a long ti coming."
"Connor, please sit down," he added, his voice now tinged with sothing I couldn't quite place. I hesitated but obeyed, taking a seat across from him. He leaned back in his chair, posture weary—like the past itself was too heavy to carry.
"Your mother and I knew each other during our ti at the YMPA, back in 1992," he began, his voice quieter now, almost nostalgic. "I really liked her, but I never knew if she felt the sa. My friend, Detrius Rocke… he had feelings for her too."
He paused, rubbing his temples before continuing. "At one point, we were assigned to monitor a high-ranking Russian military officer. Your mother, Detrius, and I were on the mission together—but things went south. We got separated."
"What happened?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.
"We found ourselves in a bad situation," he said, his eyes distant. "We were surrounded by revolutionaries. Your mother and I were taken by different groups—she by the rebels, by the Russians." His jaw tightened. "Detrius… didn't make it. The revolutionaries killed him."
I sat in stunned silence, my mind struggling to process his words. But Mr. Drails continued.
"I was held captive for a while," he went on. "I endured a lot, but I managed to escape. I found your mother and got her to safety." He looked up at , regret flickering in his eyes. "But Detrius… he was still alive when I found him a year later. Only, he wasn't the sa. We thought he'd died, but when we saw him again, he acted like we had abandoned him."
I barely had ti to absorb that before he added, "He blad your mother most of all. They were both taken by the rebels, and things between them turned violent. Their powers clashed. I rember the school shaking, students screaming. It got out of hand—that's when we were expelled."
A heavy silence filled the room. I had a thousand questions, but before I could ask, Mr. Drails spoke again—softer this ti.
"Your mother and I tried to keep our distance after that," he said. "But ten years later, in 2008, we got married. Then we had you, Connor. But not long after, Detrius ca after us. We hadn't seen him in years, yet his anger never faded. He was relentless, and we couldn't hide forever."
He looked at , pain written across his face. "I told your mother to move in with my brother—to hide. She went with him and eventually married him, but she never forgot . That's how you grew up thinking I was your uncle."
"But you're wrong," I said, my voice trembling. "You're my father—not my uncle."
"Yes," he said softly. "I am. I've been your father since the day you were born—and I always will be."
I struggled to make sense of it all. "Then why did you send to deal with him? Why , knowing what you knew?"
Mr. Drails exhaled slowly, looking defeated. "I didn't know it was him who captured Dr. Jones. I would never have put you in that position—never. Listen—"
He dropped to one knee in front of , his eyes sincere, almost pleading. "I love you, Connor. More than you'll ever know. Everything I've done—everything—has been for you."
I shook my head, my voice shaking. "I get that, but… you couldn't have just told ? Were you afraid I'd hate you or sothing?"
He stood, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It was for your own good," he said quietly. "I didn't want you living a life as complicated as mine. I wanted you to have sothing normal. I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you. I know I wasn't the perfect father… but just know I've always loved you—and I always will."
I nodded, trying to hold back the emotion threatening to spill over. Then he said, "Co on. Bring it in."
The hug that followed carried a thousand emotions—sorrow and happiness, regret and hope, pain and love all at once. Tears finally escaped down my cheeks.
"You're a good kid, Connor," he murmured, patting my back. "Good kid."
"Sure, let's say that," I said with a shaky laugh, wiping my eyes.
We both stood. He glanced at his watch, then at , then back again.
"Let show you sothing real quick," he said.
Without waiting for a reply, he gestured for to follow. We stepped outside into the afternoon sunlight. The warmth hit my skin, and the breeze carried the scent of pine and earth. In the distance, I spotted a small lake.
The sound of stones skipping across the water reached my ears, each splash soft and rhythmic. It felt like morning, even though the sun was already descending.
"That lake," Mr. Drails said, nodding toward it, "is where I spent my childhood."
"You didn't grow up in Utah?" I asked.
"We moved there from California after I lost your grandparents," he said. "We just… stayed ever since. Still keep this old house maintained, though—just in case."
I stopped walking, caught off guard by the sadness in his eyes. It was a look I hadn't seen before—and it made ache for him.
"Oh. Sorry…"
He sighed. "It's not sothing I talk about often. But at least you got to et your mother's parents. They're still alive—though not the easiest people to deal with. But your mother... she was an angel. Still is."
I nodded, guilt twisting in my chest.
"So," he said, changing the subject, his tone lighter, "how's life treating you?"
"It's been… okay," I said, exhaling. "A lot's happened, but I'm figuring things out. The school's still a bit strange, and the mission didn't exactly go as planned."
"In the grand sche of things," he said, looking out over the water, "I hope you don't forget your roots. And I hope, soday, you'll forgive ."
"I already have," I said firmly.
We stood there for a while, the silence between us filled with understanding. Then, without warning, Mr. Drails opened two portals—each leading to where we belonged.
"Well," he said with a small smirk, "this has been quite an afternoon. But, Connor—one thing."
"What's that?"
He leaned in close, his voice shifting from gentle to stern. "Do not speak a word of this to anyone. I should probably suspend you longer for breaking into my office, but… what kind of man would that make ?"
"Okay, bro…" I groaned, rolling my eyes.
He chuckled and stepped through his portal. I followed through mine.
In an instant, I was standing outside my house, about fifty feet away. My heart felt heavy, the weight of everything pressing down all at once. I swallowed hard, fighting back tears, then straightened up.
I headed ho. My walk was the sa as always, but it felt rather different this ti.
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