Nichs broke down like a little kid who''d just been scolded, sniffling and sobbing so loudly that everyone else in the hospital room jumped in surprise.
Herman, never one for emotional disys, didn''t try tofort him. He just yanked a tissue from the box, handed it over, and said, "I got a settlement from Sandy for you. You''ll be fine, money-wise. This is thest time I''ll visit."
If it weren''t for Nichs''s obvious fatherly love, Herman wouldn''t have bothered showing up at all.
He''d already gone above and beyond for Nichs-honestly, he''d been more generous than anyone could expect.
The old Herman wouldn''t have cared if a stranger lived or died, let alone someone who''d lied to him.
Maybe it was the memory loss. Maybe it was the way Nichs had stuck by him during those lost months. Whatever the reason, Nichs had gotten under his skin.
Nichs stared at Herman, stunned, shame and sorrow in his eyes. He wanted to call him "son," but the word just wouldn''te he knew, deep down, the man in front of him wasn''t his boy.
A woman visiting her father-inw in the next bed overheard and couldn''t hold back. "What''s wrong with you? Your dad''s in this shape and you''re just walking away? Where''s your conscience? He raised you, and this is how you repay him? Ungrateful—shame on you!"
Nichs panicked when he heard Herman being scolded. "No, no, don''t me him! It''s not his fault, he-"
Tears streaked down Nichs''s wrinkled cheeks as he looked at Herman, forcing the words out: "He''s not my son."
The woman didn''t buy it for a second. She figured Nichs was just covering for him. "Oh please, Uncle Nick, don''t stick up for him. Someone needs to set him straight. He can''t just walk out on his own father!"
Herman didn''t react-just stood there, calm and quiet.
Nichs tried again, voice trembling. "Really, he''s not my son. My son... he''s probably gone. I''m the one who owes this young man. He still came to help me, and I''m already grateful. Son—Mr. Salstrom, I''m sorry I lied to you all this time. I kept calling you, just to tell you... you''re not George."
"I already know," Herman said, handing Nichs an envelope with Sandy''s agreement inside. "Take this. It''s enough for you to livefortably back home."
Nichs hung his head, guilt all over his face. "Mr. Salstrom, you''re not mad at me? I helped Miss Sandy trick you. I''m sorry."
He''d known for a while that his real son was probably dead. He just couldn''t ept it.
"It''s in the past," Herman replied, voice cool but not unkind. "Take care of yourself."
Herman didn''t linger. He arranged for a nurse to look after Nichs and left out the truth-that the real George was dead.
As long as no one said it out loud, there was still a scrap of hope-something to hold onto.
Because once hope is gone, that''s when people give up.
Not long after Herman left, Nichs got a call from the police. "Is this Nichs? Sir, we found your son''s remains. We need you toe in and identify him..." fo
That one call wiped out whatever hope Nichs had left.
He broke downpletely, fell out of bed, tore open his wounds, and the pain knocked him out cold.
That night, Nichs died in his sleep-quietly, slipping away with no one by his side.
When grief turns to utter hopelessness, sometimes all that''s left is letting go.
No one was there to handle the funeral. The hospital finally got the police involved
to track down Nichs''s only living rtive—a distant nephew.
Taking care of a funeral is a grim job. Who wants to do that for a rtive they haven''t seen in decades?
When the nephew first got the call, he hung up. But as soon as he found out Nichs had left behind three hundred thousand in savings, he rushed over, put on a big show of weeping, and acted like the world''s most devoted nephew.
Human nature—don''t test it unless you''re ready to be disappointed, suffocated, and left hopeless.
Herman never heard a word about Nichs''s death. He wrapped up his business in a day and caught the next train back to Riverdale.
He didn''t tell Anastasia anything, and instead of heading to Salstrom Manor, he went straight to Harmony Meadows.
As he strolled through the neighborhood, a sudden rush of air warned him— someone was attacking from behind.
Herman spun, dodging instinctively. He faced a man he didn''t recognize, but didn''t let on. No need to reveal he''d lost his memory.
It was Rowan. Rowan had been itching for a confrontation.
Rowan''s eyes burned with anger. "She loves you, and you''re messing around with Sandy? You don''t deserve her."
Rowan had followed Herman to
Willowbrook and found out he''d
spent months with Sandy. He had no idea about Herman''s
idea
amnesia-he just thought he was
standing up for Anastasia
But Herman caught something in Rowan''s words. He raised an eyebrow. "You got
a thing for my wife, huh?"
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