CHAPTER 2 — WHAT THE WALLS REMEMBER
That night Ethan didn't sleep.
He cleaned the cuts on his mother's arms while she drifted in and out of exhaustion.
Around two in the morning, she finally whispered the truth.
Claire had taken control of every bank account.
She rationed food.
Locked medicine inside a cabinet.
Turned off the heat during winter.
Confiscated every phone.
Whenever Ethan tried calling from overseas, Claire stood beside his mother and forced her to say everything was fine.
"If you tell him..." Claire would whisper after every call, "...you'll never see him again."
His mother's voice cracked.
"I didn't want you distracted over there."
Ethan closed his eyes.
Men had tried to kill him overseas.
None of them had hurt him like this.
Before sunrise, he quietly walked through the house.
Military instincts noticed details civilians ignored.
A tiny security camera hidden inside a bookshelf.
Fresh scratches on the basement lock.
Medication hidden inside Claire's bedroom drawer.
Then he found the safe.
Inside were his mother's missing identification, pension checks, handwritten letters addressed to him, and dozens of unopened military envelopes.
Letters she had written for nearly a year.
Letters Claire had never mailed.
At the bottom lay a notebook.
Every date.
Every bruise.
Every insult.
Every meal denied.
Every threat.
His mother had documented everything.
She had simply prayed someone would one day read it.
Ethan closed the notebook.
May you like
The mission was no longer survival.
It was justice.
