In that exact second, the medicated fog instantly vanished from his eyes. Hot tears streamed down his weathered face.
“Scout?” Arthur’s voice cracked, fragile and completely shattered. “My boy. My good boy.”
The old veteran buried his face into the dog’s neck, his shoulders shaking with months of suppressed grief. He wept loudly, completely unashamed.
In the doorway, huge, tough men covered in tattoos were openly wiping tears from their eyes. Even I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing.
The giant biker stepped into the room and knelt gently next to the wheelchair. “We found him, boss,” he said softly. “We found your boy. And now we found you. We’re taking you both home.”
The facility director finally pushed her way through the crowd, flanked by two very nervous security guards. “You cannot remove a patient from this facility! He is medically incapable of making his own decisions! His family signed all the legal paperwork!”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped off my nursing badge and dropped it right onto her expensive shoes.
“His family abandoned him,” I said loudly, making sure every biker in the room heard me. “And you’ve been unnecessarily drugging a hero just to keep him quiet. I will gladly testify in court to every single pill you forced him to take.”
