Doors closed behind me.
Time stopped.
An hour later—
A doctor walked out.
His face told me everything.
“We stabilized him… for now.”
I breathed again.
Barely.
But then he continued.
“Sir… I need you to explain something.”
He handed me a report.
My hands started shaking.
“The level of chemical exposure in your son’s body is extremely high.”
He paused.
Lowered his voice.
“And that’s not the worst part.”
I looked up.
“There are older marks on his body.”
“Restraint marks.”
“Like he’s been tied up… multiple times.”
My world collapsed.
I turned slowly toward Lisa.
Before I could speak—
She dropped to her knees.
Crying.
Desperate.
“It’s my fault! I tried to hide it! He has problems! He hurts himself!”
She pulled out a notebook.
Filled with notes.
“I documented everything! He punishes himself! He’s not normal!”
The doctor took it.
Read.
Nodded slowly.
“That… explains a lot.”
I stood there.
Frozen.
Heart split in two.
Mind spinning.
Was it possible…
my own son was doing this to himself?
Or…
was something much darker hiding inside my home?
And then—
It hit me.
Ethan’s voice in the laundry room:
“Please… don’t lock me in again…”
That didn’t sound like imagination.
That sounded like—
memory.
And in that moment, I realized: