Is That Mom

Part 3 of Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The First Real Lead

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Part 3:

Confronting His Grandmother

Ethan had spent days immersed in his investigation, but he still had more questions than answers. The clinic, the cryptic forum posts, the receipt—it all pointed to a part of his mother’s past that no one had ever spoken about. It was as if a whole hidden world had been locked away, just out of reach. And now, the key was within his grasp, but he couldn’t turn it alone. He needed help, and there was only one person who might have the answers he sought.

Ethan found his grandmother in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup on the stove. The warmth of the kitchen was a stark contrast to the cold tension Ethan felt as he approached her. She had always been a steady presence in his life, the person who had raised him after his mother disappeared. But now, even looking at her filled him with a strange mix of emotions—love, trust, and a gnawing suspicion. If she knew something about his mother’s connection to the clinic, why hadn’t she ever said anything? What was she hiding?

He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her move around the kitchen with practiced ease, the rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the pot the only sound in the room. For a second, he hesitated. Part of him didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to shatter the fragile peace they had managed to hold onto all these years. But he couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. Not after what he had found.

“Grandma,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet, “can we talk?”

She turned, her eyes lighting up with a warm smile when she saw him. “Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had rehearsed this moment in his head over and over, but now that it was happening, the words felt heavy and awkward on his tongue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled receipt, holding it up so she could see.

“I found this,” he said, his voice tight. “It’s a receipt from a clinic, dated right after Mom disappeared. Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?”

His grandmother’s smile faltered, and for a moment, she just stared at the piece of paper in his hand. The sound of the boiling soup grew louder, filling the silence between them. Ethan watched her face, searching for any sign of recognition, any hint that she was about to explain everything. But instead, her expression turned guarded, almost fearful.

“Ethan, where did you find that?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with something he couldn’t quite place.

“In a box of Mom’s things,” he replied. “Why didn’t you tell me she was at this clinic? What was she doing there?”

His grandmother set down the spoon and wiped her hands on a dish towel, taking a moment to collect herself. When she looked up at him, her eyes were clouded with a mix of emotions—sorrow, guilt, and something that almost resembled panic. “Ethan, I don’t think this is something we should be discussing. Some things are better left in the past.”

Ethan felt a surge of frustration, his hands clenching around the receipt. “No,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you hiding things from me. I have a right to know what happened to her. I have a right to know the truth.”

His grandmother flinched, as if his words had physically struck her. For a moment, she seemed to shrink, her shoulders slumping as she turned away from him. Ethan could see her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the counter, and he felt a pang of guilt for pushing her. But he couldn’t back down now. He needed answers, and this was his only chance to get them.

“Please,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I just want to understand. I just want to know what happened.”

She was silent for what felt like an eternity, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Finally, she turned to face him, and when she spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Ethan, your mother… she was going through a difficult time back then. She didn’t want you to see it, to see her like that. The clinic… it was supposed to help.”

Ethan’s heart pounded as he absorbed her words. “Help with what?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

His grandmother hesitated, her eyes flicking to the stove as if searching for an escape. “She was struggling, Ethan. Mentally, emotionally. She was… not herself. The doctors thought it would be best if she got some professional care.”

The room seemed to tilt around him, and Ethan felt like he was struggling to keep his balance. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because she didn’t want you to know,” his grandmother said, her voice trembling. “She wanted to protect you. She thought it would be easier if you didn’t see her like that. And when she… when she disappeared, I thought it was best to keep it that way. I didn’t want you to carry that burden.”

Ethan stared at her, his mind reeling. All these years, he had been searching for answers, piecing together fragments of memories, trying to make sense of why she had left. And now, he was being told that his mother’s disappearance had been tied to something darker, something he had never even considered. “But she never came back,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “The clinic didn’t help, did it?”

“No,” his grandmother said, her voice cracking. “No, it didn’t. She… she left the clinic one day, and we never saw her again.”

Ethan felt like the floor had been pulled out from under him. He had always imagined his mother as this strong, loving figure who had been taken from him, but now he was being told that she had been lost long before she ever disappeared. It was like he was mourning her all over again, but this time, he was mourning the person she had been, the person he had never truly known.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt. “I had a right to know.”

“I was trying to protect you,” his grandmother said, tears welling up in her eyes. “You were just a child, Ethan. I didn’t want you to grow up with that kind of pain.”

“Well, I grew up with a different kind of pain,” Ethan shot back, his voice sharp. “I grew up not knowing who my mother really was, or why she left. And now I find out that you knew something this whole time, and you never said a word.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and accusatory. His grandmother opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, as if she couldn’t find the right words. For the first time, Ethan saw just how old and fragile she looked, and it made his heart ache. But he couldn’t let go of the anger, the sense of betrayal that had been building inside him.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “I thought I was doing the right thing. But I see now that I was wrong. I… I never wanted to hurt you, Ethan.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say. He wanted to scream, to cry, to demand more answers, but he could see that his grandmother was at her limit. Pushing her any further would only make things worse. He took a step back, the receipt still clutched in his hand, and looked at her one last time before turning to leave the kitchen.

As he walked away, he could feel her eyes on his back, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t know what to believe anymore, or who he could trust. All he knew was that the truth he had been searching for was still out there, and he was going to find it, no matter what it cost him.

The sound of the boiling soup faded as he left the room, replaced by the pounding of his own heart. Ethan knew that this confrontation had only scratched the surface, and that there were still so many questions left unanswered. But he also knew that he couldn’t rely on anyone else to find those answers for him. He was alone in this now, and he was going to have to find the truth on his own.