Is That Mom

Part 9 of Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Confronting the Past

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Part 9:

The Safehouse

Ethan stumbled through the door of the safehouse, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. The place was just as his mother’s notes had described—small, hidden, and forgotten by time. It was a relic from a past he hadn’t known existed, a place meant for emergencies. His mother had planned for this, anticipated that he might one day need it. But standing there, drenched in sweat, mind clouded with fear, Ethan wasn’t sure if she had really understood the depths of danger he was in now.

The safehouse was run-down, barely holding together. The windows were boarded up, leaving only narrow slivers of moonlight to filter through the cracks. Dust coated the old furniture, and cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling. It smelled of neglect, like a place that had been abandoned for years, forgotten by the world. But it was secure. That’s all that mattered for now.

Ethan closed the door behind him and slid the heavy deadbolt into place, his fingers trembling with fatigue. He rested his back against the door for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His heart was still racing from the chase, and the quiet of the safehouse felt jarring after the relentless pursuit. He could still hear their footsteps in his mind, still feel the looming presence of those who had hunted him.

For now, though, he was safe. But how long would it last?

He made his way over to the old table in the center of the room and dumped his bag onto it. The files he had taken from the outpost spilled out, papers scattered across the worn wood. Ethan stood there for a moment, staring down at them, feeling the weight of what they represented. Each file was a piece of the puzzle, a fragment of the dark conspiracy his mother had been involved in. And now, it was up to him to make sense of it all.

His hands shook as he sifted through the documents. The words blurred in front of his eyes—his exhaustion making it hard to focus. He hadn’t slept in what felt like days, and the physical toll of running for hours had left him barely able to stand. But he couldn’t rest. Not yet. The files contained crucial information, and he had to figure out the next step.

There were reports, photographs, logs—pieces of the experiment that had consumed his mother’s life. Some of it was incomprehensible, written in scientific jargon that he didn’t fully understand. But the parts he could read sent a chill down his spine. The genetic manipulation project had gone far beyond anything he had imagined. The subjects had been altered, changed in ways that were both horrifying and fascinating. And at the center of it all was his mother.

Ethan’s thoughts drifted back to the hidden chamber, to the revelation that had nearly broken him. His mother hadn’t just been a scientist—she had been a subject, too. She had willingly altered herself, becoming part of the experiment. The thought was still too much for him to process. How could she do that to herself? To him? It felt like a betrayal, a shattering of everything he had believed about her.

But then there was her recording. Her voice had been filled with sorrow, regret even, but also conviction. She had believed in the necessity of the experiments, believed that they were the key to something greater. Was that why she had altered herself? To understand the full potential of the project? Or had there been another reason, one he hadn’t uncovered yet?

Ethan sank into the old chair by the table, his head in his hands. The emotional strain of it all was becoming too much to bear. He felt like he was unraveling, each new discovery pulling him further away from the truth he had once believed in. His mother had been everything to him, and now, he wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

He was alone. More alone than he had ever been.

The safehouse was supposed to offer him refuge, but the isolation only deepened the sense of abandonment that had been growing inside him. He had no one to turn to, no one to help him make sense of the mess he had found himself in. His mother was gone, and the people who might have been able to help him were too far away, too removed from the danger he was in now. He was on his own, and the loneliness felt like a crushing weight.

For a moment, he thought about leaving. Just walking away from it all. The files, the chase, the truth—maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe his mother had been right in her warning: some truths are better left buried. But as much as the thought tempted him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too far in now. The truth, no matter how painful, was something he had to see through to the end.

His eyes drifted to the files again, and he forced himself to focus. There had to be something in here, some clue that would point him in the right direction. The group chasing him—they wanted these files for a reason. There was something in them that was dangerous, something that could expose the full scope of the conspiracy. But what?

Ethan rubbed his eyes, exhaustion threatening to pull him under, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet. He grabbed one of the photographs, holding it up to the dim light. It was old, faded, but the people in it were unmistakable. His mother was there, standing among a group of scientists, her face solemn. The backdrop looked familiar—another research outpost, one he hadn’t been to yet.

His heart skipped a beat. This could be it. The next step.

He searched through the notes again, looking for any mention of the place in the photograph. It didn’t take long to find it—another facility, hidden away, like the one he had just fled from. If he wanted answers, real answers, that’s where he had to go next.

But the thought filled him with dread. He was exhausted, terrified, and now, more vulnerable than ever. The group chasing him—they wouldn’t stop. And the deeper he went, the more dangerous it became.

Ethan leaned back in the chair, his eyes closing for a moment. The safehouse was quiet, too quiet. But even here, in this place of supposed refuge, he felt the weight of the danger pressing in on him. The files might hold the key to everything, but the cost of uncovering the truth was becoming more and more unbearable.

He was tired. So tired. But the need to survive, the need to understand, kept him moving forward, even when every part of him wanted to stop.

Tomorrow, he would head to the next facility. Tomorrow, he would continue the search. But for now, in the silence of the safehouse, he allowed himself a moment to breathe.

Just a moment.