“I love you, Ban,” Gar said, the words coming out a wet whisper, but there was strength in his grip as he squeezed Corban’s hand. “You are the son I never had, and no son could have made me prouder.” Tears filled Corban’s eyes. “I love you, Gar, as my da, my brother, my greatest friend,” Corban whispered. Gar’s grip on his hand tightened, then slackened. “Don’t go,” Corban whispered, Gar’s face a blur through his tears. “Please, Gar, don’t go.” But he already had.
What a wonderful moment between two key figures in the story.
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