Echoes of the Silent Realm

Chapter 15: The Empty Chair

**Chapter 15: "The Empty Chair"**

A week had passed since the funeral, but it felt like time had stopped altogether. The house had settled into a strange, unnatural quiet, one that none of them could get used to. The spaces where Allen used to be—the kitchen table where he sipped his morning coffee, the living room chair where he watched football with Ian, the garage where he tinkered with Luke's bike—felt like empty voids now. His absence was everywhere, like a heavy shadow that refused to lift.

Aaly stood in the kitchen, staring at the empty chair at the head of the table, where her dad used to sit. She didn't realize she had been gripping the counter so tightly until her knuckles turned white. There was a half-finished bowl of cereal in front of her, but she couldn't bring herself to eat. Every bite tasted wrong, hollow. She was supposed to be strong, for her mom, for her brothers, but the grief was suffocating, a constant knot in her chest.

Across the table, Ian poked at his food, his fork scraping against the plate. He was staring at his phone, but he hadn't really been paying attention to it. He just needed something to hold onto, something that wasn't the overwhelming sadness he felt every time he walked into a room and didn't see his dad there. Ian didn't say much these days. He just floated through the days like a ghost, too focused on holding himself together to really be present. He had to be strong, like Dad would've wanted him to be, but it was getting harder every day.

Luke and Isaac were in the living room, the TV on but barely audible. Luke sat on the floor with a pile of LEGOs in front of him, but he wasn't building anything. He was just absently moving the pieces around, his mind somewhere far away. Isaac was curled up on the couch, clutching his stuffed rabbit, his thumb in his mouth, something he hadn't done in years. He hadn't said much since the funeral, and Luke wasn't sure how to talk to him. How to explain something that even he couldn't fully understand.

"Do you think we'll ever feel normal again?" Luke asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac didn't answer. He just looked at Luke, his eyes wide and confused, like he was waiting for Luke to give him the answer. But Luke didn't have it. He didn't know how to make any of this make sense. Their dad was supposed to be invincible, the one who could fix anything. And now he was gone.

Aaly heard Luke's question from the kitchen, and it struck her like a punch to the chest. She had been asking herself the same thing, over and over. How were they supposed to go back to normal when everything felt so broken?

Their mom had been in and out, checking in on them but mostly lost in her own grief. Aaly had tried to fill the void, taking on responsibilities that didn't feel like hers, but someone had to. She glanced at Ian, who hadn't spoken in hours, and then back at the empty chair.

"Mom's not doing well," she finally said, her voice quiet but steady. "She's... she's just not herself."

Ian didn't look up from his phone, but he nodded. "I know."

"She won't even come downstairs anymore," Aaly added, her tone filled with frustration. "It's like she's given up."

Ian sighed, finally setting his phone down. "She's grieving, Aaly. We all are."

"I know," Aaly said, her voice shaking now. "But we can't just... we can't just stop living. We have to keep going. For Dad."

Ian finally looked up at her, his eyes heavy with the same exhaustion she felt. "I'm trying. But it's hard."

Aaly crossed her arms, trying to keep herself together. "We all have to step up, Ian. We have to take care of each other."

There was a long silence between them, the weight of their father's absence settling heavily in the room. Ian wanted to argue, to say something that would ease the pressure Aaly was putting on herself, but he couldn't. She was right. Everything had changed, and none of them knew how to move forward. But they had to try.

Luke wandered into the kitchen, dragging his feet as he stood by the counter. "What are we supposed to do now?" he asked, his voice small. "Without Dad?"

Aaly knelt down to his level, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "We remember him," she said softly. "We remember what he taught us, and we keep going. That's what he'd want."

Luke stared at her, his eyes filling with tears he hadn't allowed himself to cry. "But it's hard."

"I know it is," Aaly whispered, pulling him into a hug. "But we'll get through it. Together."

Isaac appeared in the doorway, still clutching his stuffed rabbit, his face blank but his eyes searching. He didn't say anything, but his presence was enough to remind them all that they still had each other.

Ian stood up from the table, his shoulders slumped but his expression determined. "We're going to be okay," he said, though the words sounded like a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. "We just have to take it one day at a time."

The four of them stood in the kitchen, their grief unspoken but shared. It was overwhelming, suffocating, but they weren't alone. They still had each other.

As the rain continued to fall outside, they gathered around the kitchen table, the empty chair at the head a painful reminder of who they had lost. But for the first time since the crash, they let themselves feel the sadness together, knowing that even though the road ahead was uncertain, they weren't walking it alone.

They would keep going. For their dad. For each other.