Through the Dark | ✓

12

Ethan was in his studio, surrounded by a chaotic blend of old drawings and sketches. The faint smell of graphite lingered in the air, a comforting reminder of his creative process. He leaned over a particular piece, lost in thought.

"Son?" Michael peeked his head around the doorframe, careful not to disturb the quiet atmosphere.

"Come in," Ethan replied, glancing up from his work. He put down his pencil, "what's up?"

Michael stepped inside, the door creaking slightly as it swung open. "I want to ask you more about Danielle." There was a weight in his voice, a blend of concern and desire to connect. Michael had always tried his best to bridge the gap between them, but Ethan seemed to push him away, creating an invisible wall. Michael often felt like a ghost in his own home, longing for a relationship with the only piece of Mia he had left. He knew Marc's actions had contributed to the distance, making it all the more difficult.

"I don't know much about her myself," Ethan admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He shifted slightly in his chair, feeling the tension building between them. "She's only told me a few things."

"Can you tell me what they are?" Michael leaned against the doorframe, his expression earnest and hopeful.

"Her family... they've been abusive, both physically and emotionally. Her mother was raped, and Danielle is the product of that, so they blame her for everything. Her stepfather, mother, and younger sister all treat her like a burden, using her as a servant."

The words felt heavy on his tongue, and he glanced away, unable to fully process the pain that accompanied them. "She told me about a boyfriend her mom had when she was younger. She considered him a father figure because he actually loved and cared for her. But her mother despised their relationship and... got rid of him."

Michael's brow furrowed, concern etching deeper lines on his forehead. "Rid of him?"

Ethan nodded. "Not killed, but sent to prison on false charges. Twenty years for something he didn't do." He felt a surge of anger for her, the injustice of it all weighing heavily on him. "Her mother framed him and twisted the truth until no one believed him."

Michael's heart sank as he listened. He couldn't fathom what Danielle had gone through. "What did you tell her about yourself?" he asked, shifting the focus to Ethan.

Ethan's expression hardened slightly. "All the lies you told me to tell everyone else. Don't worry, Dad, she doesn't know about your... past or how my leg situation happened."

Michael's shoulders slumped as he rubbed his face, the guilt pressing down on him. "You do know she will find out somehow, living under the same roof."

"I know," Ethan replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "But I'd rather tell her myself than let her find out through someone else."

They both knew who that someone else was.

"He will not get near her, you understand? I'm going to protect her like my own," Michael said, his voice firm as he stood a little straighter, determination etched on his face.

Ethan's gaze fell to the ground, memories flooding back, the anger still simmering within him. "Like you did with me?" he whispered, vulnerability slipping through his hardened exterior.

Michael calmed himself, facing Ethan once more. "Son, you know what happened that day. We both do. It was a setup. I was supposed to meet him out of town."

"I know," Ethan whispered again, the weight of the past still heavy on his heart. He would never forgive his father for what had happened to him. "I have some things to do, so if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."

Michael nodded, understanding the need for space, and quietly exited the studio. As the door clicked shut behind him, he whispered to himself, "If only I could go back in time and fix everything."