Chapter 6 - What Was Left Behind
We drove home in Daniel's truck, leaving my car in the school lot. Nobody spoke. Ethan sat in the back seat, the red dress bunched around his knees, while Daniel gripped the wheel with red, swollen eyes.
When we pulled into the driveway of our small suburban home, the house looked different. For three years, it had felt like a museum of things unsaid. The walls were bare where family portraits used to hang; the spare bedroom at the end of the hall remained locked, the key hidden somewhere in Daniel’s toolbox.
Ethan stepped out of the truck and walked straight to the front porch. He didn't wait for us. He unlocked the front door and marched directly down the hallway toward the locked room.
"Ethan, wait," Daniel called out, following behind him with heavy, dragging footsteps.
Ethan stopped at Sophie's door. He turned to his father. "Give me the key, Dad."
Daniel swallowed hard. "Ethan, there’s nothing in there. It’s just empty boxes. I packed everything up."
"You didn't pack everything," Ethan said softly. "Because you were too afraid to actually look through her closet. You just grabbed whatever was on the shelves and stuffed it into plastic bins. Give me the key."
Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out his keychain. His hands shook so badly he dropped them twice before finding the small brass key. He slid it into the lock and turned it. The mechanism clicked open with a sound that felt like thunder in the quiet house.
The room smelled of stale air, lavender detergent, and dust.
It was exactly as Daniel had left it three years ago: stripped bare, a solitary mattress without sheets leaning against the wall, cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner. It looked sterile. Dead.
Ethan walked past the boxes and went straight to the closet. He reached up into the high crawl space above the hanging rod—a small, dark nook behind the drywall that only a child would know about.
He pulled his arm back out. In his hand was not another piece of clothing.
May you like
It was a thick, leather-bound notebook tied shut with a bright yellow ribbon.
"She knew you were going to do this, Dad," Ethan said, his voice trembling as he held the notebook out toward his father. "She told me, 'Dad’s going to try to be strong, but he’s going to break. Give this to him when he’s ready to stop hiding.'"
