Chapter 7:
The Road to the City
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Part 4:
Uncovering the Letters
The air in the small, dimly lit room was stifling. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by a sea of papers, the letters strewn about as if they could somehow make more sense that way. His eyes scanned the words over and over, but each reading left him with more questions than answers. His mother’s handwriting, once comforting, now felt alien, cold, and distant. She had written these words, but the person they described didn’t resemble the woman he had known. The more he read, the more his heart twisted in knots, a mixture of disbelief and betrayal slowly growing.
The letters were dense, full of obscure references and cryptic language. Dates, locations, and people he didn’t recognize filled the pages, woven into a narrative that felt half-finished, like his mother had been speaking in code. Names were mentioned—an "A. Lucero," a "Dr. Ward"—none of them familiar, and yet the tone of urgency in her writing suggested that they had been significant players in her life. At times, her words became frantic, the sentences sharp and staccato as though she had been in a rush, as though danger had been closing in.
The names were accompanied by places Ethan had never heard of—obscure towns, hidden facilities, places with ominous-sounding names like “Facility X” and “Project Horizon.” There were repeated references to something she called "the organization," but never any explanation of what that really meant. It was as if she had been working for—or against—something much larger than herself, something Ethan had never known existed. As he read, the image he had of his mother—a woman who had always been private but loving—began to shift into someone else entirely.
Ethan’s hands trembled as he picked up another letter. It was one of the shorter ones, written in a hurried scrawl that made it harder to read. The ink was smudged, and the paper felt fragile beneath his fingertips. He imagined her, late at night, writing by the dim light of a lamp, her mind racing as she poured her thoughts onto paper. In this letter, she wrote of "the experiment"—always vague, never specific. But the way she described it made Ethan’s skin crawl.
"…I fear they are too close now. There’s no stopping what’s already begun. Ward is pushing too hard. He thinks he can control it, but I know better. There’s no controlling something like this…"
The experiment? What had she been involved in? Ethan’s mind flashed with images—his mother standing in some sterile lab, surrounded by people in white coats, dangerous chemicals bubbling around them. He could see her in his mind, her face grim, determined, and perhaps, terrified. He shook the thought away, but it lingered like a shadow in the corner of his mind.
As Ethan read further, his emotions swung wildly between sorrow and anger. He wanted to mourn her, to grieve the woman he had lost, but how could he mourn someone he didn’t truly know? The mother he had known was kind, gentle, protective. But the woman described in these letters? She was calculating, involved in something dangerous, perhaps even unethical. She wasn’t just a victim of circumstances—she had been an active participant.
How could she have hidden all this from me?
The thought echoed in his mind, bitter and accusatory. He felt a sharp pang of resentment toward her, an emotion he wasn’t used to when it came to his mother. She had always been his rock, the one person he could count on, but now he wasn’t sure he had ever really known her at all. What kind of person had she become in those last years? And why hadn’t she told him?
His fingers traced over the words again. The letters hinted at decisions she had made, choices that seemed impossible to justify. There were references to moral dilemmas, to sacrifices that had to be made "for the greater good." But what did that mean? What had she sacrificed? Who had been hurt in the process?
Ethan pushed the letters aside, leaning back against the bed with a heavy sigh. His eyes burned, not just from the strain of reading, but from the emotional weight of it all. The room felt smaller, closing in on him with every revelation. He had come here hoping to find answers, but instead, he was unraveling the person he had loved most.
He grabbed one of the letters, crumpling it in his fist. Anger surged through him. How could she have done this? How could she have kept this part of her life so deeply hidden? She hadn’t just been protecting him—she had been lying to him. He wanted to scream, to tear the letters apart, to forget everything he had just learned. But he knew that wouldn’t change anything. The truth was out now, and he had to face it.
Ethan stared at the pile of letters, his mind swirling with confusion. His mother had been entangled in something dark and dangerous, and it wasn’t clear whether she had ever escaped it. She had mentioned wanting to protect him, but had she really? Or had she been too caught up in her own world to care?
A part of him wanted to believe she had been a victim, that she had been forced into this life by circumstances beyond her control. But the more he read, the more it seemed like she had chosen this path. There were references to meetings, to deals made in secrecy, to alliances forged in the shadows. His mother had known what she was getting into, and while she might have regretted it later, that didn’t change the fact that she had been complicit.
His heart ached as he thought about the woman he had loved—the mother who had cared for him, who had raised him, who had tried her best to keep him safe. That woman felt like a ghost now, a figment of his past that no longer aligned with the reality before him.
Ethan rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the headache that was building. Every new piece of information only deepened the mystery, and with it, his growing sense of betrayal. His mother had been a stranger in her final years, a woman who had lived a life he could barely comprehend.
He glanced at the letters again, torn between wanting to burn them and needing to read every single word. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but so was something else—sorrow. Grief for the loss of the mother he had thought he knew, and for the fact that he would never get the chance to confront her about any of this.
Ethan’s chest tightened as he stood up and paced the small room. He couldn’t afford to break down now. There were still too many unanswered questions, and as much as he wanted to walk away from it all, he couldn’t. Not yet. His mother had left these letters for him to find, and no matter how painful the truth might be, he had to see this through.
His gaze fell on the key again, lying on the bed next to the letters. It felt heavier now, as though it carried the weight of everything his mother had left behind. What did it unlock? And would it reveal more secrets—secrets that would shatter the last remnants of who he thought his mother had been?
Ethan didn’t know if he was ready for the answers, but he knew one thing for sure—there was no turning back now. Whatever his mother had hidden, it was up to him to uncover it, no matter the cost.

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Is That Mom
Mystery / ThrillerEthan has always been haunted by the mysterious disappearance of his mother, a shadow over his life that no one, not even his grandmother, is willing to fully explain. Now, armed with his mother's forgotten journal and a determination to uncover the...