"He hung up? He just hung up?" Atlas said in absolute disbelief.
"You need to calm down."
"I'm calm," he bobbed his head. "I'm calm. What else can I do? I have a fucking ankle monitor restricting my movements. I'm on investigation for the murder of the woman who lied to me about being a father. I lost the boy who I loved dearly. I lost my mo–" he inhaled sharply. That one was still too painful to deal with. "And now, I'm about to lose the respect I had for a man who I considered a father. What's next? What's more to lose? What is surprising? I've lost it all."
"No you haven't."
She held his hand again, and brought it to her stomach.
"You have your babies. And if it will put your mind at rest, we'll run the DNA test. It's fine."
He looked at her, his brow knitted together, his mouth slightly opened, his jaw slacked.
"Isn't that what you want?"
"No. No it's not, Aveline. I know these are my babies here. I know it."
