Page 112 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir

---

I can’t stall anymore.

So I say it.

“I didn’t just survive.”

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink.

I try again, voice rougher. “There was something I had to survivefor.”

Still nothing.

Only that knife-edged quiet and his eyes—steady, dark, too aware.

“I didn’t know for sure until after Spuel,” I say. “But I knew something was different. And by the time your name was on every casualty list, I was sure.”

Still he waits.

So I take the leap.

“I had a son,” I say. “Wehad a son.”

The words land wrong. Flat. Too small.

Like I’ve tried to name a supernova and all I’ve got is a birthday candle.

His face doesn’t change.

But somethinginhim does.

He goes utterly still.

The kind of still that’slouderthan movement. Like the whole world’s been sucked out of the room and he’s the last thing left holding its shape.

I feel it hit him.

Like watching a faultline give out underfoot—no tremor, just instant collapse.

I want to fill the silence, patch it, soften the blow. But I don’t.

Because this momentmatters.

So I let it stretch.

And when I finally turn and start walking, I know he’s following before I hear his boots.

The hallway’s narrow, low-ceilinged, the light warm and dim. My bare feet move soundlessly on the polymer floor. His don’t. His steps sound heavier now. Like gravity’s just gotten personal.

At the end of the hall, I stop in front of the door.

It’s not locked.

It never is.

But my hand hesitates on the knob like it suddenly weighs a thousand tons.

“You don’t have to—” Kalev starts behind me.

“Ido,” I say.

---