Sure, there might be some functional impact down the line.
But Mr. Carter was acting like the apocalypse had arrived.
It was baffling.
"Sir, are you harboring some secret royal bloodline?" Claire asked dryly. "Is it strictly mandatory that he produces an heir to the throne?"
Mr. Carter let out a heavy sigh. "No royal bloodline, just a family diner."
"But my mother..."
Years ago, when Mrs. Carter struggled to produce a male heir, her mother-in-law had made her life a living hell.
The tension had severely fractured Mr. Carter's relationship with his own mother.
It was only after they quietly had a second child-Hudson-that the family dynamic smoothed over.
The old woman was still alive and kicking. If she found out her only grandson was shooting blanks and the family line was dead, the fallout would be catastrophic.
At their age, having another child was out of the question.
"So just don't tell her," Claire said, completely immune to the melodrama.
"Besides, your family only has a diner to pass down. Your son is studying at The Cabinda University. He'll probably settle in the city and rarely come home."
"How often is he really going to see your mother anyway?"
Mr. Carter blinked, utterly speechless. The girl made a shockingly good point.
Finn shot Claire a helpless look before addressing the parents again. "I never said his function was permanently gone. It entirely depends on his rehabilitation."
"We'll provide the best possible treatment."
"Please, try not to jump to worst-case scenarios."
The Carters were simple, earnest people.
Hearing the doctor's reassurance, they nodded tearfully and immediately asked the nurses what supplies they needed to buy for his recovery room.
They hurried off to gather essentials before Hudson woke up.
Mrs. Carter would stay at the hospital, while Mr. Carter had to catch a train back to Apex.
They couldn't afford to keep the diner closed for too long.
They were remarkably reasonable, Other parents might have stormed the camp screaming about a lack of safety protocols and demanding a
3afe settlement.
They were at a military training camp, yet student safety clearly wasn't guaranteed.
Causing a scene, going to the press, and threatening the school for cash.
That was the usual playbook.
But the Carters genuinely only cared about their son's survival. It was incredibly
rare.
Van had already dispatched a camp liaison to formally brief the parents.
When they learned Hudson had fallen out of a tree while trying des stash stolen snacks the couple buried their faces in their
"That idiot boy! Risking his life over a stolen sandwich!"
"Did we ever let him go hungry?!"
The diner brought in a solid income, built on a generations-old family recipe.
They gave Hudson a very generous monthly allowance.
To think he resorted to stealing food—and worse, hiding it in a tree like a squirrel— was humiliating.
He grew up in the country; how did he manage to fall out of a damn tree?
The couple spent the next five minutes thoroughly cursing their son's nonexistent survival instincts.
This kid was unbelievable.
zne
Down the hall, Claire was running on fumes. When Van offered to take her out to dinner she immediately shook her head.
"I'm passing on dinner. I'll just grab something quick at the cafeteria."
High-stakes surgeries drained her mentally and physically; all she wanted was rest.
"Dane already booked a table at a restaurant."
Van had to clarify.
Claire paused, her brow furrowing. "How is he here?"
"He wanted to check on you."
A minor incident had forced Van to redirect Dane, telling him to adjust his plans.
Claire stared at him. "Isn't Camp Blackwood completely off-limits to civilians?"