Jake leaned back in his chair, scanning the reports scattered across his desk. His head still buzzed from everything he had learned that day, about Donovan and his unexpected gifts. He sighed, shaking it off and trying to focus on the patrol schedule he was halfway through organizing when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened slowly and Christian stepped inside. Jake sat up straighter, tension tightening his shoulders. His father rarely came to his office unless it was official, or unpleasant.
Christian shut the door but didn’t sit. Instead, he paced to the window, hands clasped behind his back. He stared outside like he needed to gather his thoughts.
Jake waited, refusing to fill the silence. Over the years, he had learned his father would only speak when
