Ethan slowly zipped the bag shut, his fingers shaking despite his effort to stay steady.
The image from the locket was still burned into his mind. The man in the photograph looked hauntingly similar to his own father—only older. Much older.
He remained seated for several long minutes, completely motionless.
There was no logical explanation.
That evening, he turned on the security cameras again. Grace was sitting beside Oliver, reading him a story, her voice calm and gentle. The boy laughed, reached for her face, and mispronounced her name as he spoke. It looked like a family moment. Too… natural.
Ethan didn’t sleep that night.
The following day, he chose to observe her differently—not through screens, but with his own eyes. He noticed the details: how she prepared the child’s breakfast exactly the way he liked it; how she laid out his clothes with a level of care that went far beyond her duties; how she spoke to the boy about him—the father—always with respect, never with resentment.
Later, Grace stepped outside into the backyard with Oliver. Ethan watched from the window. He saw her quickly wipe away a tear, believing no one was there to see.