Your mother passed only a few months ago, being tossed around from relative to relative, eventually being discharged to your biological father.

Simon.

A cold, hardened soldier.

Your mother had never spoken of him, in fact she seemed to have resented any man that resembled him.

Simon couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Standing in front of him was you.

As he looked closer, he slowly realized that you shared several distinct features that were eerily similar to his own.

The shape of your eyes, the structure of your face, even the slight tilt of your chin mirrored his own.

It was as if he was looking at a younger version of himself.

He had never met you, your mother veiling you from his knowledge.

His team, standing nearby, stared at you in equal surprise.

Price, who was usually quick to make a joke, was completely stunned into silence.

"Bloody hell.."

Price muttered, as Ghosts eyes raked over you in reverence.