“Boss, take a look. These are photos of the boy. His name is Chaim Sanford. He has leukemia and is in the hematology ward in the south building, on the same floor as us.”
As Roderic spoke, Joseph was already opening the file. The first page was a picture of the child. His gaze froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The boy was handsome, with well-defined features. At first glance, he looked exactly like a young Lennon.
Seeing his boss’s grave, stunned expression, Roderic couldn’t help but add, “Right? He really looks like Mr. Lennon. But if you didn’t know Mr. Lennon, you’d think he looked just like you.”
After all, the two Baird brothers had always shared a resemblance.
Joseph didn’t say anything. He flipped to the next page and saw the room number.
“Let’s go. We’ll go see him.”
Roderic’s excitement surged, and he practically jogged to keep up.
“Boss, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Joseph didn’t even turn around, his expression grim. “He’s someone else’s child. What is there to think?”
“You could become his godfather! That way, your families could get to know each other, and you could bring the boy over to visit your parents.”
“Godfather? What is this, the last century?”
Roderic pouted but said no more.
They arrived at the ward, and both men instinctively slowed their pace.
Roderic, acting like a thief, glanced around nervously. “Coast is clear, Boss.”
Joseph shot him a withering look. Roderic immediately realized how sneaky he was being and straightened his posture.
Standing at the doorway of the room, Joseph peered inside, his heart filled with a desperate hope. But the bed was empty.
Roderic was puzzled. “Where is he? Maybe he went for a walk?”
“Who’s looking after him?” Joseph asked.



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