"Is he not his real son?" Bronte began to ponder, but those thoughts were not his to control.
Instead of answers to his own questioning, there was ruthless mockery and the sound of heavy slaps raining down on Steve Harris's face as people crowded around him.
Bronte wildly kicked his legs but it was useless; four men pinned him against the wall. Bronte didn't have the strength to break free, he could only watch helplessly as Steve suffered in front of him.
Why? Why treat Steve this way? Steve would eventually wake up; didn't Old Sir Harris truly fear that Steve's shattered wounds would reopen?
With such heavy blows, how could Steve not wake up? He did wake up, saw a dark crowd before him, felt the intense pain in his face, so he knew that man had lost his temper again.
Seeing Steve open his eyes, tears suddenly streamed down Bronte's face. How helpless he felt at that moment.
Sir Harris saw Steve awake, so he approached and questioned him,
