Desperation soon drove me toward Ethan’s nightstand, where I uncovered an aging notebook buried beneath scattered documents. One entry seized my attention immediately.
“Mother continues checking locks obsessively every single night, convinced she hears intruders approaching despite consistent silence surrounding our home environment.”
When Ethan realized what I had found, emotional restraint collapsed entirely. Tears replaced composure, vulnerability replacing guarded silence with painful honesty.
“After my father’s death decades ago, she developed severe anxiety rooted deeply in unresolved trauma,” he explained through trembling breath. “She remains convinced that danger lurks constantly, watching, waiting, preparing to strike without warning.”
Then came the revelation that chilled me completely.
“She recently began saying something deeply troubling,” Ethan continued quietly. “She insists repeatedly that she must protect me from you specifically.”
My voice barely emerged. “From me?”
He nodded, guilt saturating every expression.
Fear settled coldly into my bones.