“How did the kid’s operation go?” Faust asked the moment Connor opened the door to his room. He put down the newspaper he was reading, he never does that until he’s done.
“Should you really be asking that? Aren’t you supposed to think of yourself first?”
“I’m good. It’s just a scratch. I’ve been through worst.” Faust folded the newspaper on his hands and put it to the bedside table then looked back to Connor. The latter didn’t miss that painful look in his face with his every movement though, Faust tried so hard to act unaffected.
“Whatever.” Connor sunk himself on the soft couch and closed his eyes.
“So?” Faust urges him to tell him the details.
“He’s fine. Trevor is just finishing up with him.” Connor answered not even both
