Is That Mom

Part 1 of Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The First Real Lead

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Part 1:

A Sudden Revelation

The storm raged outside, rain pouring down in sheets against the window. The sound was a constant, steady rhythm, a background noise that seemed to match Ethan’s heartbeat as he sat in the dimly lit room. He was surrounded by old boxes, stacks of papers, and faded photographs—remnants of a life that seemed distant yet unbearably close. This room, cluttered and musty, had become a place of solace for him over the past few weeks. It was where he came to search for answers, to dig through the past and find pieces of a puzzle that had been haunting him.

Ethan had never paid much attention to these old family items before. They had always been there, collecting dust in the attic, but now they felt like keys to a locked door—one that held the truth about his mother. He had spent countless hours sifting through them, hoping to find something, anything, that could explain what had happened. And yet, for all his searching, he had come up empty. Until now.

As he rummaged through an old shoebox filled with receipts, letters, and random bits of paper, his fingers brushed against something that felt different. It was a thin, crumpled document, tucked away beneath a stack of old birthday cards. Pulling it out, Ethan squinted at the faded print, trying to make sense of it in the dim light.

It was a receipt, dated just a few days after his mother had disappeared. His brow furrowed as he scanned the details. It wasn’t from a store or a restaurant, as he had initially thought. It was from a clinic—a nearby one that he recognized. Ethan’s heart began to race as he read the name of the facility. He knew this place. It was a small, private clinic that specialized in a variety of medical services, but he had never associated it with his mother before.

The more he read, the less sense it made. According to the receipt, there had been a payment for “treatment services,” but no specifics were listed. There was no indication of who the patient was, only the date and the amount paid. Ethan’s mind raced, connecting dots that didn’t quite fit. This document didn’t match the official story he had been told. His grandmother had always said his mother had left suddenly, without warning, and that there had been no trace of her. Yet, here was a record from the clinic dated right after she vanished.

Confusion surged through him, followed closely by a rush of hope. Could this be a real clue? For so long, he had been searching in the dark, chasing shadows, but this felt tangible, concrete. Yet, as the initial excitement wore off, he felt a pang of fear. What did this mean? If his mother had been to this clinic right before she disappeared, why hadn’t anyone mentioned it before? What had she been doing there?

Ethan’s hands trembled slightly as he held the paper, his mind reeling with questions. He tried to imagine his mother at the clinic, sitting in a sterile waiting room, filling out forms, speaking to doctors. The image felt wrong, unsettling. She was supposed to be a loving, carefree person—at least that’s what he had always been told. Why would she have been at a clinic so close to the time she disappeared? And why had no one ever told him?

The room seemed to grow darker as the storm intensified outside, the wind howling against the window panes. Ethan felt a chill run down his spine, as if the room itself was closing in on him. He had spent so long feeling like there were pieces of his life that didn’t fit, but now he was starting to see just how many gaps there were. This wasn’t just a missing puzzle piece; it was a hole, a void that no one had ever tried to fill. Or maybe, he thought with a shudder, someone had been actively keeping it hidden.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he heard footsteps in the hallway. His grandmother. She was making her way downstairs, probably heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea, as she did every evening. Ethan’s body tensed as he heard her approach, and he instinctively stuffed the receipt back into the shoebox, sliding it beneath the other papers. A part of him wanted to march out there and confront her, to demand answers, but he hesitated. What if she denied everything? What if she had no idea this receipt even existed? Or worse, what if she did, and she had been hiding it from him all along?

Ethan’s grandmother appeared in the doorway for a brief moment, glancing into the room. “Are you still up, Ethan? It’s getting late,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on the mess he had made of the room. There was a note of concern in her voice, but also a weariness, as if she was too tired to argue with him about it.

“Yeah,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m just… going through some old stuff.”

She nodded, not pressing the issue. “Don’t stay up too late,” she said, before continuing down the hallway. Ethan watched her go, his heart heavy with unspoken words. For a moment, he considered calling her back, showing her the receipt, and asking her point-blank what she knew. But the words stuck in his throat. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not yet.

The sound of the rain intensified, drowning out the silence that followed. Ethan turned back to the shoebox, pulling the receipt out once more. He stared at it, his mind churning. There was so much he didn’t understand, but he knew one thing for sure: this was a lead. It was the first real lead he had ever found, and he wasn’t going to ignore it. Whatever this clinic was, whatever had happened there, it was connected to his mother’s disappearance. And he was going to find out how.

For the rest of the night, Ethan sat by the window, watching the rain as it blurred the world outside. The storm felt endless, the sky dark and heavy, as if it would never clear. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, a flicker of determination sparked. He had spent too long living in the dark, surrounded by unanswered questions. Now, he had something real, something he could follow. And he was going to follow it, no matter where it led.

As he finally dragged himself to bed, long after midnight, Ethan clung to that thought. He would find the truth, even if it meant facing things he wasn’t ready to understand. The rain continued to fall, a steady, relentless downpour that echoed through the night, but Ethan didn’t hear it. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was moving toward something, rather than just drifting aimlessly. And that was enough to keep him going, even as the storm raged on.