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"Mr. Quirrell, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used in court..."
Nathan listened from afar, his tears still streaming down his cheeks, and everything around him felt like a dream... or rather, a nightmare.
When he heard about going to trial, his mind clouded with the realization that he would always have that shadow looming over his life, that his father would always be willing to tarnish his existence.
Prison wasn't enough; that vermin had to die.
Filled with rage again, he punched those holding him and snatched a weapon from one of them, aiming it at the man lying on the ground, muttering incoherently.
"Bastard!" Nathan exclaimed before shooting him.
The police took the weapon away from him after that, subduing him completely. He hadn't thought about the consequences, his children, or his grandfather in the hospital; he had just let the pain clouding his heart take over.
The man hadn't died and was desperately gasping for air while his body trembled uncontrollably. It was clear he was in immense pain and near the end.
Nathan felt absolutely no pity for Richard; he had been the cause of all his sorrows and misfortunes, not deserving his compassion.
They were about to take Nathan away when Richard spoke.
"Nat...han," he said with difficulty. "Nathan…”
"I hope you die, you miserable bastard," Nathan spat on the ground, furious.
"She... she..."
"What?"
"She..." Richard said with difficulty. "She is... alive."
At first, Nathan didn't understand anything, but after Richard repeated it three times, his eyes widened, and he broke free again before being handcuffed, rushing towards Richard, anxious.
"Who?" he demanded, frantic. "Suzanne? Suzie?"
The man gasped again, his mouth filled with blood, and he opened his eyes wide in full attention before falling completely still.
"I killed him, I killed him," Nathan thought, his heart racing.
After the initial shock and feeling his body go numb, he barely felt the handcuffs being placed on him, while his mind continued to process what had happened and what Richard had told him.
Who was alive? Could it be Suzanne? Now he would never know, thanks to his outburst.
Nathan sighed as they put him in the police car, thinking about his children and how he would deal with the charges that were surely coming.
"You're a killer, it's in our blood, Nathan," he thought he heard his father's voice in his mind.
"I'm not like you," Nathan murmured, shaking his head. "I'm not like you, damn it."
He had just killed his own father, but he refused to call himself a murderer, silencing his conscience with the thought that Richard had killed more people and that he had only done it in self-defense.
But despite trying to convince himself, the weight of what he had done fell on his shoulders like a heavy burden, filling him with an overwhelming sense of dread.
His throat tightened so much that he could barely breathe, and again he thought of his children and Suzanne, who was possibly dead... Or maybe she was alive as Richard had said, but he wasn't sure who Richard had been referring to when he uttered those words.
…
In the hospital, the echo of heart monitors and the soft hum of machines filled Jarek's room. The news hit him like a lightning bolt, leaving him stunned: Nathan had been arrested.
Anguish took hold of him, a knot of pain and guilt nesting in his chest. Nathan's father, that damn monster, had succeeded in his goal.
He blamed himself for not protecting his grandson better, for driving him back to Richard Quirrell.
"How could I be so stupid!" he growled, clenching his fists against the sheets.
The room felt even more claustrophobic, its white, sterile walls seeming to close in around him.
His mind raced. He needed to get out of that place, find Suzanne, and free Nathan.
He knew no body had been found, which gave him a glimmer of hope. But he also knew Richard was capable of anything.
As he organized his thoughts, a burning desire to see his grandson consumed him.
He was willing to pay the best lawyers to give Nathan some relief, even though he knew his grandson would blame himself for what had happened, despite having done what was necessary to get rid of trash like Richard Quirrell.
Determined to act, Jarek tried to get up, ripping the IVs from his arms.
A nurse entered just in time, alarmed to see him.
"Mr. Jarek, you can't get up!" she exclaimed, trying to stop him. "You can't leave without the doctor's authorization."
"Then call the damn doctor!" Jarek shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. "I have to go rescue my grandson and his wife."
The nurses looked at each other, terrified, as one of them ran out to get the doctor. Shortly after, the doctor entered, his face serious and tired.
"Mr. Jarek, your condition is delicate," the doctor said calmly. "You can't leave the hospital without a medical discharge.”
"Then discharge me," Jarek replied in a threatening tone. "I have to see Nathan. If you don't, I'll leave on my own terms, and I won't give a damn about what you say."
The doctor sighed, recognizing the determination in Jarek's eyes.
"This isn't a prison, Mr. Strong, but I'm concerned about your health," he said, trying to reason with him.
"I'm strong as an oak," Jarek retorted stubbornly. "Stop worrying about things that don't concern you and do as I say."
Finally, the doctor signed the discharge authorization. As soon as he received the document, Jarek dressed in his suit and, with the phone in hand, began making frantic calls.
Determined, he called his best men, sending them to investigate Suzanne's whereabouts. He needed to find out the whereabouts of his great-grandchildren's mother and see his grandson as soon as possible.
As he left the hospital, the fresh air hit his face but brought no comfort. He knew the real battle was just beginning, but he was willing to fight until the end.
Determined, he got into the luxury car waiting for him, his mind fixed on a single mission: to reunite his family and protect Nathan from the clutches of that dark past.