Is That Mom

Part 6 of Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The First Real Lead

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Part 6:

The Meeting

The rain had only grown heavier as the evening set in, drenching the streets and turning the town into a blur of gray shadows. Ethan sat at a corner booth in the run-down café, the sleeves of his jacket damp from the downpour he had walked through to get there. The café was almost empty, save for a few regulars nursing their cups of coffee, their faces weary and distant. The place had a quiet, somber atmosphere, as if the rain outside had seeped into the walls and settled over everything.

Ethan glanced at his phone to check the time-just five minutes until the agreed meeting hour. He had spent the entire day debating whether or not to show up, his mind replaying the words from John's cryptic email over and over. I knew your mother. The message had ignited a small, flickering hope in him but also stoked the embers of his fear. What if this was all a trap? What if John was leading him on, just like everyone else had? But then there was the other question, the one that kept him awake at night: What if John really did have the answers?

His nerves were on edge. Ethan had barely slept in days, and it showed. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair tousled, and he couldn't stop fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. He took a deep breath and glanced at the rain-streaked window, catching a distorted reflection of himself. He barely recognized the person staring back. There was a time when he would have shared his anxieties with his grandmother or even his friends, but that time seemed like a distant memory now. This search had consumed him, pulling him into a darkness he didn't know how to escape.

The bell above the café door chimed, and Ethan's heart skipped a beat. He turned to see a man walk in, shaking the rain off his coat. He was older, maybe in his late 50s, with a haggard face lined by years of wear and tear. His eyes, though tired, had a sharpness to them, a cautious awareness that scanned the room before finally landing on Ethan. For a moment, they locked eyes, and Ethan could see a flicker of recognition. This had to be John.

Ethan straightened in his seat, his heart pounding as John approached the booth. "Ethan?" John asked, his voice low and gruff. Ethan nodded, gesturing for him to sit down. John slid into the seat across from him, placing his wet coat on the back of the chair. He took a moment to study Ethan, as if sizing him up, and Ethan couldn't help but feel exposed under his gaze.

"You look just like her," John said finally, his voice barely audible over the soft murmur of the café. "Your mother."

Ethan swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat. "You said you knew her," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "How? And what happened to her?"

John didn't answer right away. He signaled the waitress and ordered a coffee, his hands shaking slightly as he handed back the menu. Ethan noticed the way his fingers trembled and wondered if it was from the cold or something else-nerves, perhaps. Finally, John turned back to him, his expression serious.

"I knew your mother from the clinic," he said. "She wasn't just a patient there; she was... involved in something. Something that went far beyond just medical treatment."

Ethan's heart quickened. "What do you mean? What was she involved in?"

John hesitated, his eyes darting around the room as if checking to make sure no one was listening. "I can't give you all the details," he said, lowering his voice. "But your mother was trying to help people-patients who had nowhere else to go. She was... part of a group. They were looking into things the clinic didn't want anyone to know about. Dangerous things."

Ethan leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "What kind of things?"

John's face darkened. "Experiments. Treatments that were never approved, never documented. Your mother believed the clinic was hiding something, that they were experimenting on people without their consent. She was trying to expose it, but... she got in over her head."

Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. "Experiments? What kind of experiments?"

"I don't know everything," John said, shaking his head. "I wasn't directly involved. But from what I heard, they were testing new drugs, psychological treatments, things that could alter behavior. Your mother thought they were doing more harm than good. She tried to find proof, but... she disappeared before she could get anything out."

Ethan's mind was spinning. "So, you're saying she was trying to expose the clinic? That's why she disappeared?"

John nodded slowly. "Yes. But it's not that simple. The clinic... they had connections, powerful ones. Your mother was warned to back off, but she didn't listen. She was too stubborn, too determined to let it go. And then, one day, she just... vanished."

Ethan's stomach twisted. He had always imagined his mother as someone who had simply left, who had chosen to disappear for reasons unknown. But to hear that she had been trying to fight something, to expose a truth... it changed everything. "Why didn't anyone tell me this?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Why did everyone lie?"

"Because they were scared," John said bluntly. "The people who run that clinic... they don't play by the rules. They protect their secrets, and they don't care who gets hurt in the process. Your grandmother probably thought she was keeping you safe by not telling you. Maybe she was right."

Ethan shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "No. I deserve to know the truth. I need to know what happened to her."

John sighed, looking older and more tired than ever. "I'm not saying you're wrong, kid. But if you're going to keep digging, you need to be careful. You're not just dealing with a missing person case. You're dealing with people who will do anything to keep their secrets buried."

Ethan met John's gaze, trying to read the man's expression. There was a sincerity there, but also a fear-like he was warning Ethan to turn back before it was too late. "Then help me," Ethan said. "Tell me what I need to do."

John hesitated again, his eyes flicking to the door as if expecting someone to walk in at any moment. "There's an address," he said finally. "A place where your mother used to meet with some of the other people she was working with. It's risky, but if there's anything left, you might find some answers there." He scribbled an address on a napkin and slid it across the table to Ethan. "But I'm telling you now-if you go there, you're not going to like what you find."

Ethan took the napkin, his hands shaking. "Why are you helping me?" he asked quietly.

"Because I owe her," John said simply. "Your mother... she tried to do the right thing, even when it cost her everything. I couldn't help her back then, but maybe I can help you."

Ethan nodded, unable to find the words to express what he was feeling. Gratitude, fear, hope-they all mingled together, overwhelming him. "Thank you," he managed to say.

John stood up, putting on his coat. "Just be careful, Ethan," he said. "You're not the only one looking for answers, and some of them are a lot less friendly than I am."

With that, John turned and left the café, disappearing into the rain-soaked night. Ethan sat there for a long moment, staring at the napkin in his hand. The address felt like a lifeline, but it also felt like a curse. He had come here looking for answers, but all he had found were more questions. Yet, even as the fear gnawed at him, he knew he couldn't stop now. Whatever lay ahead, he was ready to face it. He had to be.