"He's fifteen."
The nurse filled in the blank on the admissions form. "He looks younger."
John's smile was tired. As she went on with the questions, he glanced over his shoulder at the boys. They sat quietly in the middle of the hospital's waiting room. Dean was watching his father; Sam leaned against him, head resting on his brother's shoulder.
"You said Sam was injured in a fall? Mr. Bronson?"
John turned back. "Sorry. Yes, the boys were roughhousing in the woods. Sam fell down a slope, ended up against a tree."
The nurse smiled. "Boys will be boys."
.