Chapter 2: What He Clutched Against His Chest
Frank's hands were shaking.
Whatever Ethan had thrown at him, he was clutching it against his chest now, trying to hide it.
But I had already seen enough.
It was a photograph.
"Frank." My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"What is that?"
He wouldn't look at me.
Ethan stood perfectly still in the doorway, calm in a way that frightened me more than Frank's rage ever had.
"You want to tell her, Dad?
Or should I?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Frank said.
His voice had dropped to something I barely recognized.
"You're a child.
You have no idea—"
"I'm not a child anymore." Ethan's eyes didn't move.
"I haven't been for a long time."
I stepped forward and reached for the photograph.
Frank pulled back.
"Don't."
"Frank." I looked straight at him.
"Give it to me."
The silence in that hallway was the loudest thing I have ever heard.
Then Ethan spoke again, quietly.
"Mom.
The photo isn't even the worst part."
He reached back into the suitcase.
And pulled out a letter.
The return address made my knees go weak.
I recognized the city.
I recognized the year.
It was from the same year Frank told me he had never left home.
May you like
The full truth — and what that letter revealed — is in the link below.
What Ethan uncovered will leave you speechless.
