Chapter 8 - The Room of Memories
That night, the mansion was quiet—not the cold, haunting silence of the past five years, but a soft, warm quiet filled with the gentle breathing of sleeping children.
Ethan walked down the second-floor hallway, stopping outside the master nursery wing.
For five years, he had kept these doors locked. He hadn't stepped inside since the week after the funeral, unable to bear the sight of the empty cribs, the tiny clothes, and the framed family photos.
He slowly turned the brass knob and pushed the door open.
The afternoon sun had been replaced by the soft glow of a nightlight.
Inside, three brand-new wooden beds had been brought in and set up side-by-side.
Sleeping in the left bed was Aaron, snoring softly with a giant stuffed bear tucked under his arm.
In the right bed was Jonah, wrapped in three thick down blankets, a look of profound peace on his face for the first time since Ethan had met him in the cemetery.
And in the middle bed sat Lucas, awake, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the moonlit trees outside.
Ethan stepped quietly into the room, sitting on the edge of Lucas’s bed.
"Can't sleep, buddy?" Ethan asked softly, smoothing his son's hair back from his forehead.
Lucas shook his head. "I was scared if I went to sleep, I'd wake up back in the basement."
Ethan felt a sharp pain in his chest. He leaned down, pulling Lucas into his arms, resting his chin on the boy's head.
"You're never going back there, Lucas," Ethan whispered fiercely. "Never again. I'm right here. I’ll be right here all night."
Lucas reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out the chipped blue race car. He held it out to Ethan.
"You can keep it now," Lucas said softly. "I don't need it to remember you anymore."
Ethan took the tiny metal car, looking at the carved L + A on the bottom.
"I'm going to keep this on my desk," Ethan said, his voice thick with emotion. "Every single day while I work, I'm going to look at it and remember how brave my boy was."
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Lucas smiled, his eyes finally growing heavy as the safety of his father’s warmth washed over him. Within two minutes, his breathing evened out, his head resting against Ethan’s chest.
Ethan stayed there for hours, holding his son, watching the moon move across the autumn sky.
