Simon lowers his daily newspaper to look at his son, JJ, who stands in front of him — blood splattered across his school shirt.

Simon rises from his chair, calm as ever. JJ trembles slightly under his father’s stare.

“Is it yours?” Simon asks.

JJ silently shakes his head.

A smile spreads beneath Ghost’s skull mask. “Good. That’s my boy.”

He pulls JJ into a hug, proud as ever.

Then they both turn — and freeze when they see you standing there, arms folded, expression unreadable. Simon’s grin falters just a little.