Is That Mom

Part 4 of Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Shadows of the Past

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Part 4:

Haunted by Guilt

As they left the dim and musty confines of the dilapidated library, Ethan felt the weight of the discovery hang heavily on his shoulders. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long, jagged shadows over the empty streets. The town, already lifeless and ghostly, seemed to grow more oppressive in the fading light. Every step they took seemed to echo through the silence, the sound of their footsteps swallowed by the thick stillness.

Ethan walked in silence beside Sarah, his mind swirling in a storm of guilt and uncertainty. His mother, who had once been a comforting presence in his life, now felt like a distant stranger wrapped in layers of secrets and danger. Every clue they uncovered pulled him further into the dark web of her disappearance, but with every step forward, he couldn’t help but wonder what he was sacrificing to find the truth.

His grandmother’s face flashed in his mind, and with it, a sharp pang of regret. He had left her behind—alone and vulnerable. She had already lost her daughter, and now he had disappeared too, consumed by this obsession. Ethan had promised her that he would be careful, that he wouldn’t let this journey consume him the way it had consumed his mother. But here he was, miles away, knee-deep in danger, and there was no going back.

Was this worth it? Was this search for answers, this relentless pursuit of a past he barely understood, worth the pain it was causing? His grandmother had begged him not to dig too deep, warning him that some truths weren’t meant to be uncovered. But he hadn’t listened. Now, standing in the dying light of a forgotten town, he wondered if she had been right all along.

The guilt was suffocating. It wrapped around his chest, constricting his breath, filling his mind with doubt. What if he never found his mother? What if all he found was more pain, more danger? And what if, in his search, he lost everything else—his family, his sanity, even his life? The questions gnawed at him, relentless and unyielding.

He glanced at Sarah, who walked a few paces ahead, her shoulders tense, her gaze fixed straight ahead. She had been quiet since the library, offering no more explanations, no reassurances. Her silence only deepened the divide between them, and Ethan felt more alone than ever.

A part of him wanted to talk to her, to share the weight of his guilt and fear, but another part of him hesitated. Sarah had her own secrets, her own burdens. She wasn’t someone who would easily open up, and Ethan wasn’t sure he had the energy to pry those walls down. Besides, how could he confide in her when trust between them was already so fragile?

The shadows stretched longer, the sky darkening to a dusky purple as they continued down the street. The town was eerily silent, not a single soul in sight. It was as if they had walked into a place frozen in time, abandoned by everyone except for the ghosts of the past. The emptiness mirrored the hollowness Ethan felt inside.

“I never should have left her,” Ethan muttered, almost to himself.

Sarah slowed her pace but didn’t turn to face him. “Who?”

“My grandmother,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “She’s all alone now. I told myself this was for her too—that finding out what happened to my mom would help us both. But… I left her behind. What if I never see her again?”

There was a long pause before Sarah responded, her tone softer than before. “You did what you had to do, Ethan. You couldn’t have stayed. Not if you wanted answers.”

Ethan shook his head, the knot of guilt tightening. “What if the answers don’t matter? What if all this—” he gestured vaguely at the deserted town around them, “—all this chasing ghosts just ends up hurting the people I care about?”

Sarah didn’t answer immediately, and the silence between them deepened. Ethan wasn’t sure if she didn’t know how to respond or if she simply didn’t want to. Either way, it left him feeling even more isolated.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the crumpled newspaper article he had shoved there earlier. His mother’s name, printed in faded ink, flashed through his mind again. There had been so many times in his life when he had wished she was still with him—through his teenage years, when the weight of her absence was too much to bear, and now, when he was lost in the maze of her past. Yet, with every answer he uncovered, it felt like he was losing her all over again.

“You’re thinking too much,” Sarah finally said, breaking the quiet. Her voice was steady, but there was a weariness to it, as if she understood all too well what he was going through. “We can’t afford to get lost in what-ifs. We have to keep moving.”

Ethan bit back a retort, his frustration bubbling to the surface. That was easy for her to say—Sarah always seemed so composed, so sure of herself. Even when she kept secrets, she didn’t seem to struggle under the weight of them the way he did. But what did she really know about his life, about the sacrifices he had made?

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “You’ve been running from something your whole life, haven’t you? But that’s not me. I’m not like you. I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to lose any more of the people I care about.”

Sarah’s expression flickered, a brief crack in her guarded demeanor, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost people? You think this doesn’t weigh on me too?”

Ethan stopped walking, turning to face her. “Then why won’t you talk to me? Why do you keep shutting me out? How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t let me in?”

For a moment, he thought she might finally open up, might let him see past the walls she had built around herself. But instead, Sarah just looked away, her jaw tightening.

“I’m not the one you should be worried about,” she said quietly, almost as if to herself.

Ethan’s frustration surged, but it quickly gave way to exhaustion. He didn’t have the energy to fight anymore, not with her, not with himself. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “I’m tired, Sarah. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

She met his gaze, her eyes softening just a fraction. “You’re stronger than you think, Ethan. You’ve come this far. Don’t give up now.”

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that he could keep going, that there was still hope at the end of this dark road. But the guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of what he had left behind, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead made every step feel heavier than the last.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, plunging the town into shadow, Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking deeper into a darkness he might never escape.