Is That Mom

Part 8 of Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Breaking the Silence

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Part 8:

The Ultimatum

The kitchen was unusually quiet the next morning, the stillness interrupted only by the faint, steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Ethan sat at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had long gone cold, staring blankly at the liquid. The events of the previous night played on a loop in his mind—the shattering glass, the brick, the note. The memory felt surreal, like a scene from a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from. And yet, the weight of the folded note in his pocket was a constant reminder that it was all too real.

His grandmother shuffled into the kitchen, her movements slow and hesitant, as if she were treading on eggshells. Ethan didn’t look up as she entered, but he could feel her presence, the heavy, unspoken tension that hung between them. She quietly moved around the room, fixing herself a cup of tea, her hands trembling slightly as she poured the water. It was clear that she hadn’t slept much, and when she finally sat down across from him, Ethan could see the exhaustion etched into her features, the lines of worry that seemed to have deepened overnight.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence was suffocating, as if the words they needed to say were trapped somewhere between them, just out of reach. Ethan knew why she was here, what this conversation was leading to, but he didn’t want to be the one to start it. He wasn’t sure he could bear to hear what she was about to say.

Finally, his grandmother broke the silence. “Ethan,” she began, her voice soft, almost pleading. “We need to talk.”

Ethan looked up, meeting her gaze for the first time that morning. There was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet desperation that made his chest ache. “About what?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“About last night,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “And about everything that’s been happening. I’m worried about you, Ethan. More than I’ve ever been.”

Ethan felt a flicker of guilt, but he quickly pushed it down, masking it with defiance. “I’m fine,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. “I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “This isn’t something you can just handle. You’re putting yourself in danger, and you don’t even realize how serious this is.”

“I know exactly how serious it is,” Ethan shot back, his frustration boiling over. “I’m the one getting the threats, remember? I’m the one who found the note. I’m the one who’s been lied to all these years. So don’t tell me I don’t understand.”

His grandmother flinched at his words, as if he had struck her. For a moment, she seemed lost, struggling to find the right response. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I never wanted this for you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I tried so hard to protect you, to keep you safe. But I can’t do that anymore if you keep going down this path.”

Ethan’s heart clenched at the sight of her tears, but he forced himself to stay composed. “I’m not stopping,” he said, his voice firm. “I need to find out the truth, no matter what.”

His grandmother’s shoulders sagged, as if the weight of his words had crushed whatever strength she had left. “Then you’re giving me no choice,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “If you keep digging, if you keep putting yourself in danger… I won’t be able to help you. I can’t watch you destroy yourself. You’ll be on your own.”

The ultimatum hung in the air, heavy and final. Ethan stared at her, stunned, his mind struggling to process what she was saying. “You’re telling me to stop, or you’ll… what? Just cut me off?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “You’re my family. You can’t just abandon me like that.”

“I’m not abandoning you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “I’m trying to save you. I’m trying to make you see that this isn’t worth it. Whatever answers you think you’ll find… they won’t bring her back. They won’t make things right.”

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists, the anger rising in his chest. “How would you know?” he snapped. “You’ve been hiding things from me this whole time. You knew more than you ever let on, and you never said a word. So why should I listen to you now?”

His grandmother’s face crumpled, and for a moment, Ethan thought she might break down completely. But then she straightened, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. “Because I love you,” she said quietly. “And I can’t bear the thought of losing you, too. Please, Ethan. Let this go. For your own sake.”

Ethan felt a pang of guilt, a part of him wanting to reach out and tell her that everything would be okay, that he would be careful, that he would find a way to keep them both safe. But he knew those were empty promises. The truth was, he couldn’t let it go, no matter how much he wanted to. He had come too far, and there were too many unanswered questions, too many shadows he needed to bring into the light.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “But I can’t. I have to keep going.”

His grandmother closed her eyes, as if she had been expecting this answer but had still hoped against it. When she opened them again, there was a resignation there, a quiet acceptance that sent a chill down Ethan’s spine. “Then I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said, her voice hollow. “But I can’t be a part of it. Not anymore.”

The finality of her words hit Ethan like a punch to the gut, and he felt the sting of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to say something, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he just nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the choice he had made, and the cost it would carry.

They sat there in silence, the clock ticking away the seconds, each tick a painful reminder of the time slipping away from them. Ethan could feel the distance widening between them, a gap that he didn’t know how to close. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that he was losing her, piece by piece, with every step he took toward the truth.

Finally, his grandmother stood up, her movements slow and weary. “I’m going to fix the window,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “And then I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

Ethan watched her walk away, her shoulders slumped, her steps heavy, and he felt a wave of despair wash over him. This wasn’t how he had wanted things to be. He had always thought that finding out the truth would bring them closer, that it would give them both the closure they needed. But now he realized that the truth was tearing them apart, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As he sat there, alone in the dim light of the kitchen, Ethan pulled out the note from his pocket and read it again, the words searing into his mind. “Stop asking questions, or you’ll regret it.” It was a warning, a threat, and a challenge all at once. And it only made him more determined to find the answers he sought, no matter what it cost.

But as he thought about his grandmother’s ultimatum, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to lose everything, and he didn’t know if he could handle that. For the first time, he felt truly alone, standing on the precipice of a dark, uncertain future, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to face it.

Ethan took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made a silent vow. He would find out the truth, no matter how painful, no matter how dangerous. Because he had to. Because if he didn’t, then everything he had been through, everything he had sacrificed, would be for nothing.

But as he sat there, the weight of his grandmother’s words still heavy on his heart, he realized that some truths came with a cost, and he was beginning to understand just how steep that cost could be.