I KNOW THE END

1⒌

August 23rd, 2023

THE PARKER RESIDENCE

GRACE

I sat on the porch, staring out at the quiet street as the sun dipped below the horizon. The house was unusually quiet, with Mom out late at work and William holed up in his room. It had been a weird few weeks—full of secrets, fights, and more drama than I could handle. But tonight, the weight of something more hung over us, something unspoken yet impossible to ignore.

The sound of footsteps made me look up, and I saw William coming outside. He had that look on his face—the one he always wore when something was bothering him. He sat down next to me, our shoulders barely brushing.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual.

"Hey," I replied. We both fell silent, just listening to the evening sounds around us.

After a few minutes, William finally spoke again, but this time his voice was more serious. "Do you ever think about him?"

I didn't have to ask who he was talking about. There was only one person we both tiptoed around whenever the subject came up—our dad.

"All the time," I admitted, staring down at my hands. "It's hard not to, especially lately."

"I know," he said, sighing. "It's like... no matter how much time passes, there's this hole, you know? Like something's missing that we can't ever fill."

I nodded. "It's hard to explain to people. They just assume we're fine with him being gone, but they don't get what it's really like."

Our dad being in jail had cast a long shadow over both our lives. We never talked about it openly, not with friends, not even with each other. But it was always there, lurking in the background like some dark, ugly secret we couldn't escape.

"What do you think he's like now?" William asked quietly.

"I don't know," I said, feeling a pang of uncertainty. "I'd like to think he's changed, but... it's hard to forget what he put us through."

"I remember the night he got arrested," William murmured, his voice strained with emotion. "I remember Mom crying and the look on his face when they took him away. It's burned into my brain, Grace. I don't know if I'll ever forget it."

I swallowed hard, remembering that night too. It felt like everything in our world had shattered in an instant. Our dad had always been complicated—sometimes loving, other times distant and angry. But that night, all the confusion and hurt turned into something tangible, something we couldn't just brush aside anymore.

"I've tried so hard to pretend it doesn't bother me," I admitted, blinking back tears. "But it does. I hate how much it still affects us, how it's always in the back of my mind."

William nodded, his eyes distant. "I get that. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he came back. If we could ever forgive him... or if we'd even want to."

"I don't know," I whispered, feeling a mix of anger and longing twist inside me. "Part of me wants to give him another chance, but the other part... I just can't forget everything he did."

We sat there in heavy silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. For years, we'd done everything we could to distance ourselves from the past—to build a life without his presence hanging over us. But in moments like these, it was impossible to ignore the scars he left behind.

After a while, William let out a shaky breath and stood up. "It's getting cold. We should head inside."

I nodded and followed him back into the house, both of us trying to shake off the conversation. But just as we reached the living room, something made me stop in my tracks.

The front door creaked open, and there, standing in the dim light, was a figure I hadn't seen in years. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I thought I was imagining it. But the expression on William's face told me he was seeing it too.

It was him. Our dad.

He looked older, worn out, but it was undeniably him—standing in our doorway like some ghost from the past.

"Dad?" William's voice cracked as he said the word, disbelief laced with fear.

I couldn't move. My legs felt rooted to the spot as a flood of emotions crashed over me—anger, confusion, longing, all tangled up into one.

He looked at us, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite read. Regret? Guilt? Hope? It was hard to tell, but there was a vulnerability in the way he stood there, like he didn't know if he was welcome or if we'd slam the door in his face.

"Grace... William..." His voice was rough, like he hadn't used it in a long time. "I'm home."

Home. The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

For a few seconds, none of us moved. The weight of everything unsaid hung between us, too thick to cut through. Finally, I found my voice, but it came out barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked down, unable to meet my eyes. "I got out early... on good behavior. I... I wanted to see you both. To explain."

William's fists clenched, his jaw tight. "You think you can just show up here like nothing happened?"

Our dad's shoulders sagged, and for the first time, I saw just how broken he looked. "I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but I'm here to try."

The silence that followed was unbearable. Part of me wanted to run to him, to believe he'd changed. But the other part—the part that remembered all the pain and lies—held me back.

"We need time," I finally said, my voice shaky. "We need to figure out how we feel about this."

He nodded slowly, tears welling in his eyes. "I understand. I'll wait. I'll be here when you're ready to talk."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar. The silence that followed was deafening. William and I stood frozen, both struggling to process what had just happened.

Our dad was back—but whether that was a blessing or a curse, neither of us could say. Not yet.

As the night settled in around us, I couldn't help but wonder if our family would ever really heal—or if some wounds were just too deep to fix.

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