Chapter 3
I brought them home through the rain, my hands tight on the steering wheel. Leo slept the whole way, his tiny chest rising and falling, while Lila stared out the window, her knuckles white.
Our house came into view, the big brick colonial Richard had insisted on buying when Ethan was born. It had always felt like a home. Today, it felt like a battlefield.
I parked in the garage, turning to Lila before we got out.
“Whatever happens in there,” I said, “you and Leo stay right beside me. I won’t let him say a word to hurt you.”
She nodded, clutching Leo tighter.
We walked in through the kitchen door. The house was quiet, the smell of Richard’s coffee lingering in the air. He was in the living room, reading the paper, his glasses perched on his nose. He looked up when we walked in.
His eyes went straight to Lila. Then to Leo.
His face closed off, hard as stone.
“Who is this?” he asked, his voice cold.
“This is Lila,” I said, stepping in front of them a little. “And this is Leo. Ethan’s son.”
Richard laughed. It was a sharp, ugly sound. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Some girl shows up at the cemetery with a baby, and you believe her? She’s after money, Clara. That’s all this is.”
Lila flinched. “I don’t want your money. I just—”
“Shut up,” Richard snapped, slamming his paper down. “My son would never hide a child from us. He was a good boy. He was going to be a doctor. He wouldn’t throw his life away on some—”
“Stop.”
The word came out of me so loud, so sharp, Richard’s mouth snapped shut.
I walked to the mantel, grabbing the framed photo of Ethan when he was three months old. The same age Leo was now. I carried it over, holding it beside Leo’s face.
“Look at him,” I said, my voice shaking. “Look at his eyes. Look at that dimple. Richard, that is our grandson. If you can’t see that, you’re blinder than I thought.”
Richard stared. His jaw worked, but he didn’t say anything.
“Ethan was scared of you,” I said, tears spilling over. “He was scared you’d disown him, that you’d hurt the people he loved. That’s why he didn’t tell us. He died on his way to tell me, Richard. He was driving to my house to bring Lila and Leo to meet me. And you lied to me. You told me he was going to the library.”
Richard’s face went white.
“I did it to protect you,” he whispered. “I didn’t want you to know he’d quit pre-med. That he was throwing his future away for art and some girl—”
“He wasn’t throwing anything away!” I shouted. “He was happy! For the first time in his life, he was doing what he loved, and he had a family! And you made him feel so ashamed he couldn’t even tell his own mother!”
I turned to Lila, who was crying silently, Leo still asleep in her arms.
“Take Leo upstairs,” I said softly. “Second door on the left. It’s Ethan’s old room. It’s still exactly how he left it.”
She nodded, hurrying up the stairs without a word.
When they were gone, I turned back to Richard. He was standing by the mantel, his hands shaking, staring at Ethan’s baby photo.
May you like
“Either you accept them,” I said, “or you leave. This is your choice. But Leo is my family. And nothing you say will ever change that.”
I walked out of the room, leaving him alone with the ghost of our son.
