chapter fifteen

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TONY'S POV

It had been three weeks since the trial began, and I felt pretty good about the way things were heading. We hadn't really had the chance to visit Peter, because we'd been so busy.

We were about to leave to go to court when I got a call from the orphanage. "Hello, this is Ms. Prather down at the orphanage. I'm not really supposed to be calling you, but Peter is very very sick, and I know you haven't been in to visit in a few weeks and I just think it might be best."

"As soon as Steve and I finish up with the trial today we will be there. Thank you."

I hung up the phone and ran to get Steve. "Steve, that was the orphanage. She said Peters really sick and thinks we should stop by. I told her we would as soon as the trial was over."

"Oh, no is he okay?"

"I don't know."

...

Finally, the trial was over and we rushed over to the orphanage. "Thank you for coming. Please follow me." Ms. Prather brought us down to Peter's room. We walked inside and he was there laying on the bed.

"Pete? How are you?" He didn't even flinch. Steve and I both sat down on the bed. He looked awful, the worst I had ever seen him. "Peter, talk to me."

"He hasn't spoken a word in a couple of days. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep," Ms Prather added.

"Has he been going to his therapist?"

"No, he never went back. He refused." I looked down at my boy, who wouldn't even make eye contact with me. I didn't know what to do. "Steve?"

"Bud," he said, whispering to Peter, "You gotta talk to us, okay? We want to help you. The trial is almost over and you'll get to come home! But you gotta eat for us."

He rolled over and looked at me with those puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to," he said with a raspy voice, barley getting his words out. I couldn't bare seeing my son so helpless, I began to cry. "P-Peter, please. We l-love you."

He reached out for my hand and squeezed it tight. "I love you, too."

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