Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Basement
Ethan spent the afternoon pretending he was not curious.
He failed.
He drove past Walter's new house twice.
The second time, he slowed down.
Walter saw him.
He did not wave.
That bothered Ethan more than he expected.
For years, Walter had always waved.
No matter how busy Ethan was.
No matter how short the visit.
No matter how many times Ethan said he had work.
His father always waved.
Now there was nothing.
Ethan parked in front of his own house.
Vanessa was waiting.
“Well?”
“He's inside.”
“Did you ask him where he got the money?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ethan sighed.
“Because he is my father.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“And I'm your wife.”
Ethan said nothing.
“You should know what's happening,” she continued. “What if he bought that house because he wants to make us look bad?”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“Doesn't it?”
Ethan looked toward the window.
Walter's house sat directly across the street.
Close enough that the two families could see each other every morning.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“He wants to control us.”
Ethan frowned.
“My dad doesn't control anyone.”
“Then why would he suddenly buy a house?”
“I don't know.”
“Exactly.”
That night, Ethan barely slept.
At two in the morning, he walked downstairs.
Through the window, he saw a light burning in Walter's study.
He watched his father sitting at a desk.
Walter held an old photograph.
Then he opened a drawer and removed a folder.
Ethan stepped closer to the window.
He could not see the contents.
But he saw Walter's face.
It was not the face of a defeated old man.
It was the face of someone preparing for something.
The next morning, Ethan crossed the street.
Walter opened the door.
“Morning.”
“Morning, Dad.”
Silence.
Ethan looked inside.
The house was already beginning to feel like a home.
“Can I come in?”
Walter stepped aside.
Ethan entered.
“I heard you bought this place.”
“I did.”
“With what money?”
Walter looked at him.
“I had money.”
“How much?”
Walter smiled faintly.
“You've never asked me that before.”
Ethan's expression changed.
“I just want to know.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
Ethan clenched his jaw.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Walter looked at his son for a long time.
“I am not acting like anything.”
“You are.”
“I left your house because your wife told me I had to pay two thousand dollars a month.”
“You didn't have to leave.”
Ethan looked away.
Walter noticed.
“That is the part that hurts you, isn't it?”
“What?”
“You think I left because of Vanessa.”
Ethan remained silent.
“I left because you agreed.”
The words landed heavily.
Ethan stared at the floor.
Walter continued.
“I could have stayed. I could have paid her. I could have cleaned the house. I could have cooked every meal. I could have driven the children. I could have done whatever she wanted.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because I realized something.”
Walter walked to the window.
“You weren't going to stop her.”
Ethan's eyes filled with shame.
“I didn't know what to say.”
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
Ethan looked at him.
Walter's voice softened.
“You just chose silence.”
Ethan left without another word.
But before he crossed the street, he turned around.
“Dad.”
Walter waited.
“Where did the money come from?”
May you like
Walter looked at the old photograph on his desk.
“That is a question you should have asked twenty years ago.”
