Is That Mom

Part 2 of Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Breaking the Silence

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Part 2:

Confrontation at Dinner

The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulb that flickered faintly, casting long shadows on the pale walls. The dinner table, usually a place of silent routine and unspoken tension, felt heavier tonight. Ethan sat across from his grandmother, the silence between them thick like fog. The clinking of silverware was the only sound cutting through the oppressive quiet, and even that seemed unnaturally loud, as if the walls were pressing in, amplifying every uncomfortable motion.

Ethan pushed the food around his plate, unable to bring himself to eat. His mind was still racing from the revelation he had found in his mother’s journal the night before. Every time he glanced at his grandmother, sitting there with her head bowed slightly, he felt a swell of anger rise in his chest. How long had she known? How long had she let him live with these lies, this false narrative of his mother’s disappearance?

He had tried to hold it in, to keep calm and composed, but it was impossible now. The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue, burning like acid.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question came out sharper than he had intended, slicing through the quiet like a knife.

His grandmother looked up, startled, her fork clattering against the plate. For a moment, she didn’t respond, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly or was simply pretending she hadn’t. But Ethan wasn’t going to let it go this time. He set his fork down with a deliberate clink, his eyes boring into hers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he repeated, his voice harder now, more accusatory. “About Mom. About the danger she was in.”

Her face went pale, the color draining from her cheeks as though his words had physically struck her. She stared at him, her lips parting slightly, but no words came. Ethan could see the shock in her eyes, but there was something else too—fear. And guilt.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she finally said, her voice shaky, but Ethan could hear the cracks forming in her calm exterior.

“Yes, you do,” he snapped, pushing his chair back from the table. “I read her journal. She was in danger, Grandma. She didn’t just disappear. She was running from something, from someone.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and loaded. His grandmother’s hands trembled as she placed her fork down, her eyes dropping to the table. For a moment, she said nothing, and Ethan could feel his anger building with each passing second. How could she sit there, so calm, so silent, after everything?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again, his voice rising. “Why did you let me believe she just left? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

His grandmother looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her. Ethan could see the struggle on her face—the internal battle between keeping her secrets and finally revealing the truth.

“I—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “I was trying to protect you.”

The words hit Ethan like a slap, but instead of softening his anger, they only fueled it. Protect him? Protect him from what? From the truth? From his own mother’s desperate attempts to keep him safe?

“Protect me?” Ethan’s voice cracked with disbelief. “From what? From knowing what really happened to her? From the fact that she was scared, that she was being hunted down by—by whoever it was? Do you even know who they are?”

His grandmother flinched at the sharpness of his words, her shoulders hunching as though she were trying to make herself smaller, to disappear into the chair. The vulnerability in her eyes was clear now, but Ethan was too far gone, too consumed by his need for answers to care.

“I didn’t want you to live with that fear,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “You were just a boy, Ethan. You didn’t deserve to carry that burden.”

“And I don’t deserve to know the truth now?” Ethan shot back. “I’m not a child anymore, Grandma. I deserve to know what happened to my own mother!”

His grandmother’s hands tightened around the edge of the table, her knuckles white. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and for a moment, Ethan thought she was going to break down completely. But then she did something he hadn’t expected—she fought back.

“I did what I had to do, Ethan,” she said, her voice gaining a sudden strength, though it still shook. “I did what I thought was right. Your mother was terrified. She didn’t want you involved. She wanted to keep you safe, and I—I thought the only way to do that was to shield you from the truth. You have no idea the kind of people she was running from.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan stared at her, the words sinking in, but the anger didn’t dissipate. If anything, it only deepened. He had lived in the dark for too long, and now, hearing that his grandmother had actively kept him there, out of some misguided attempt to protect him, felt like the ultimate betrayal.

“I don’t care about what you thought was right,” Ethan said, his voice low but laced with venom. “You should have told me. You should have given me the chance to decide for myself.”

His grandmother’s face crumpled, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. She wiped them away quickly, trying to maintain her composure, but it was clear that her defenses were crumbling.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I never wanted this to happen.”

But it had happened. It was too late for apologies now. The truth was out, and there was no going back. Ethan felt the rift between them widening, a deep chasm that he wasn’t sure could ever be bridged again. His grandmother had always been the one constant in his life, the one person he thought he could trust. But now, that trust was shattered, and he wasn’t sure how to pick up the pieces.

“I just need to know the truth,” Ethan said, his voice softer now, but still firm. “All of it.”

His grandmother nodded slowly, her eyes filled with regret and sorrow. She looked older in that moment, as though the weight of the secret she had been carrying had finally broken her. Ethan could see the pain etched in every line of her face, and for a brief moment, his anger flickered, replaced by a flicker of sympathy. She had been trying to protect him, in her own flawed way. But that didn’t change the fact that she had lied, that she had kept him in the dark when he needed the truth.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But you have to understand…I did what I thought was best. Your mother, she—she was involved in something dangerous, something that could have destroyed our family. I thought…I thought I could protect you from that. But maybe I was wrong.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, but Ethan nodded. He had been waiting for this moment for years. Now, finally, the truth was within his grasp. But as he looked at his grandmother, broken and vulnerable, he couldn’t help but wonder if the truth would be worth the cost.