[Papa?! The tiny little voice instantly snags Edward's attention. Who else should it be but Luke? Already preparing himself for the early morning crossword, a prodigy and a genius-in-the-making, just like his old man.]
Morning, son. [Immediately, his mouth snaps shut. The word had slipped out before he could really stop himself. Luke isn't really his son. He can't be. Yet he still remembers teaching the boy how to play chess. The day he'd passed down the book of riddles that he'd received when he was Luke's age. These memories feel so vivid. What the hell is going on here?]
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Morning, son. [Immediately, his mouth snaps shut. The word had slipped out before he could really stop himself. Luke isn't really his son. He can't be. Yet he still remembers teaching the boy how to play chess. The day he'd passed down the book of riddles that he'd received when he was Luke's age. These memories feel so vivid. What the hell is going on here?]