Andrew gave a stiff nod, but his silence didn't mean he was convinced.
His mind flashed back to an afternoon when he was eight years old. He had snuck into Adrian's study to play with a set of gold coins Adrian kept in a glass jar. He had just opened the jar when he heard the door handle turn.
In a panic, he scrambled toward the tall bookcase, and ducked behind the thick velvet curtains.
Adrian stepped into the room, holding a phone to his ear. He was pacing rapidly.
"The boy is growing up," he said into the phone. "He doesn't look like Chairman Grant at all. If he insists on a DNA test when we finally introduce him... we are all finished."
Andrew had stayed perfectly still, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Even at eight years old, he understood that his life was built on a dangerous secret.
