Martins crouched down in front of him, ignoring the dust.
“My father,” Martins said, his voice shaking just a little. “It’s me, Martins.”
Austin blinked. His eyes moved from Martins’ face to the red cap to the guards, then back to Martins’.
His lips trembled.
Then he suddenly shouted, “Leave me alone!”
Claraara gasped.
Austin tried to crawl backward on the dusty ground, panic spreading across his face. He looked like a cornered animal.
Claraara’s heart broke.
She stepped forward quickly.
“Austin,” she called softly.
Austin’s eyes snapped to her.
For a second, the fear in his face dropped. He recognized her voice. He clung to that recognition like it was a rope in deep water.
“Clara,” he whispered, confused.
Claraara nodded fast, crouching beside him.
“Yes, it’s me. You’re safe.”
Austin’s hands shook. “Why are they here?”
Claraara looked at Martins, her eyes begging him to be gentle.
Martins took a slow breath and said, “We are taking you home, Baba.”
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