David turned his head, and blinked, long and slow, like he couldn’t decide whether or not any of this was real. His son’s scream had stopped but he was still startled by the sound of it, and visibly so. “Was it you?” he asked, his voice taking on a sharp tone. “Did you bring my son here?”
Dalton didn’t look at Phobos. His eyes were glued to his father, and they were dark and storming and something in him was rattling. “You gotta go,” he muttered. “You gotta go...”
David didn’t pry his disapproving gaze away from Phobos, but when he next spoke, it was directed at Dalton. “You’re going to say goodbye to your friend. I’m going to take you home. You’re going to be alright.”