Chapter 9 - The Retest.
The medical examiner agreed to reopen Owen Parker's toxicology review on Monday morning.
He did not call it a new investigation.
He called it a supplemental analysis.
Ethan thought adults had an impressive talent for making terrifying things sound administrative.
The retained sample had been stored correctly.
Modern testing could detect substances the original standard panel had not included.
The process would take several days.
Rebecca made Ethan promise not to search the internet for possible causes.
He promised.
Then he did it anyway.
By midnight he had convinced himself of twelve different theories.
By one in the morning, he had convinced himself all twelve were wrong.
By two, he was sitting on the kitchen floor of the transitional home with a glass of water he had forgotten to drink.
Noah appeared in the hallway carrying a blanket.
"Why are you awake?"
Ethan closed the laptop.
"Why are you?"
"I heard you."
"I wasn't making noise."
"You make quiet noise."
Ethan looked at him.
"That doesn't make sense."
Noah shrugged.
"It does to me."
He sat beside Ethan.
For a minute, neither spoke.
Noah leaned against his shoulder.
"Is Dad coming back too?"
The question cut deeper than anything the court had asked.
Ethan stared at the dark window.
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Because Dad really died."
"You thought Mom really died."
Ethan closed his eyes.
Children did not understand why some truths were too sharp to say directly.
Or maybe they understood better than adults.
"Noah."
"What?"
"Dad isn't coming back."
Noah's voice became small.
"Okay."
Ethan wrapped the blanket around both of them.
Noah rested his head against him.
"Do you miss him?"
"Every day."
"I don't remember him much."
"That's okay."
"Do you?"
"Yeah."
"What did he sound like?"
Ethan smiled faintly.
"Loud."
"Like yelling?"
"No."
"Like he thought every room needed him talking in it."
Noah giggled.
"What else?"
"He sang badly."
"You sing badly."
"Genetics."
Noah thought about that.
"Mom sings good."
"Mom thinks she sings good."
A voice came softly from the doorway.
"I heard that."
Ethan nearly jumped.
Sarah stood there with Dana behind her.
Dana raised both hands.
"Approved early breakfast visit."
Ethan looked at the clock.
"It's six ten."
Dana looked exhausted.
"You were both awake."
Noah ran to Sarah.
She crouched and hugged him.
Ethan remained on the floor.
Sarah noticed the laptop.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You searched."
"No."
"You have the same guilty face you had when you were nine."
"I don't have a guilty face."
"You absolutely do."
Ethan looked at Dana.
"You brought her here to insult me?"
Dana yawned.
"Mostly for coffee."
Sarah sat across from Ethan.
"Rebecca told me what the examiner is doing."
Ethan nodded.
"You think Victor did something to Dad?"
Sarah took her time.
"I think Victor lied to us about money."
"That's not what I asked."
"I think Owen was worried about him."
"Still not what I asked."
Sarah looked directly at him.
"I don't know."
Ethan accepted that more easily than he expected.
Maybe because he finally believed she meant it.
Sarah continued.
"If the retest shows something, we deal with it."
"If it doesn't, we deal with that."
"What if we never know?"
Her face softened.
"That may happen."
Ethan looked away.
"I hate that."
"So do I."
Noah climbed onto a chair.
"Can we have pancakes?"
Ethan looked at him.
"At six in the morning?"
"Yes."
Sarah stood.
"I can make pancakes."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"You used to make them shaped like states."
"I did."
"They never looked like states."
"Texas did."
"It looked like a shoe."
Sarah opened a cabinet.
"Do you have flour?"
Dana groaned.
"Please tell me this home has pancake mix."
For twenty minutes, the kitchen filled with ordinary noise.
A bowl clattered.
Noah spilled milk.
Sarah laughed.
Ethan argued about how much butter was too much butter.
The first pancake was terrible.
The second was worse.
The third was edible.
Ethan realized, with a strange ache, that he had spent years dreaming about this kind of morning.
Not Sarah returning from the dead.
Not a courtroom.
Not stolen millions.
Just someone else standing at the stove.
Someone else remembering that Noah hated bananas.
Someone else asking Ethan whether he had slept.
It felt good.
That frightened him.
Good things could disappear.
He had learned that twice.
After breakfast, Dana left them in the living room with the door open while she made calls.
Sarah sat on the couch.
Noah leaned against her with a book.
Ethan stood by the window.
Sarah looked at him.
"You don't have to keep watch."
"What?"
"You keep looking outside."
Ethan's shoulders tightened.
"It's a habit."
"From Grant?"
"From everything."
Sarah nodded.
She did not push.
A car stopped across the street.
Ethan immediately straightened.
Black sedan.
Tinted rear windows.
Engine running.
His pulse jumped.
"Dana."
Dana appeared.
"What?"
Ethan pointed.
The sedan stayed for thirty seconds.
Then drove away.
Dana took down the plate.
Sarah's face had gone pale.
"Victor?"
"I couldn't see."
Dana called local police.
The plate came back registered to a car service.
The company had received an online booking under the name Thomas Bell.
Pickup point: a motel five miles away.
Passenger: unknown.
Ethan looked at Sarah.
"Grant."
"Maybe."
"Who else?"
Dana made another call.
By noon, detectives were at the motel.
The room was empty.
The front desk clerk identified Grant from a photograph.
He had checked out less than an hour earlier.
For the third time, they had missed him.
Ethan slammed his hand against the kitchen counter.
Sarah flinched.
Noah looked up.
Ethan immediately lowered his voice.
"Sorry."
Sarah walked over.
"He wants us scared."
Ethan looked at her.
"Then it's working."
"No."
"Yes."
Sarah shook her head.
"Being scared is not the same as being controlled."
Ethan stared.
"That sounds like something from therapy."
"It is."
He almost laughed.
Then Dana's phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
"What?"
She listened.
"Are you sure?"
Sarah stood.
Ethan's stomach tightened.
Dana ended the call.
"The home study is complete."
Noah looked confused.
Ethan knew what it meant.
"And?"
Dana looked at Sarah.
"You passed."
Sarah's eyes filled.
Judge Holloway could now consider unsupervised visits.
Potentially overnight visits.
Eventually custody.
Noah threw both arms around Sarah.
"We can live together?"
Dana smiled carefully.
"One step at a time."
Ethan felt a rush of happiness.
Then panic.
He did not understand how both could exist at once.
Sarah looked at him.
She did not ask.
She waited.
Ethan looked toward the window.
The black sedan was gone.
The street looked normal.
He heard Noah laughing.
Then Dana's phone rang again.
This time she answered with a frown.
Her eyes moved to Ethan.
He knew immediately the call was about him.
"What?"
Dana listened.
"Okay."
She hung up.
"Your school called."
Ethan's stomach dropped.
"What did I do?"
"Nothing."
"Then why?"
"They received a withdrawal request."
Sarah stood.
"What?"
"For both boys."
Ethan's face hardened.
"From who?"
Dana looked at her notes.
"It was submitted online using Grant Mercer's guardian credentials."
Ethan stared.
"He's trying to move us."
"The request was blocked."
"But he can still access the school system?"
"Apparently."
Sarah's anger surfaced.
"Why are his credentials active?"
Dana was already dialing.
"They won't be for long."
Ethan looked at the withdrawal form on Dana's phone.
The requested destination school was in West Virginia.
A town called Briar Glen.
He had never heard of it.
Rebecca arrived an hour later.
She searched public records.
There was one connection.
A cabin outside Briar Glen had been owned by Owen Parker's company years earlier.
It had been used for executive retreats.
The company sold it after Owen's death.
Buyer: Hale Ridge Properties.
Rebecca looked at Sarah.
"Victor's shell company."
Ethan leaned closer.
"So Grant was trying to send us there?"
"Or make it look like you were going there."
"Why?"
Rebecca's expression became grim.
"To establish a paper trail."
"For what?"
"If he is preparing to argue that he remains your lawful guardian, school enrollment could support a claim that he intended to resume care."
Ethan laughed bitterly.
"He disappeared for four months."
"Facts do not stop people from filing claims."
Sarah looked at the withdrawal request.
"Briar Glen."
Her face changed.
Rebecca noticed.
"You know it?"
Sarah closed her eyes.
"No."
Then she opened them.
"Yes."
Ethan stepped closer.
"What?"
"Owen took me there once."
"To the cabin?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Before Noah was born."
Rebecca's pulse quickened.
"Why?"
Sarah looked frightened.
"He wanted to show me something."
"What?"
"A safe."
Ethan stared.
"What safe?"
"In the basement."
Sarah's voice dropped.
"He said if anything ever happened to him, there were copies of records there."
Rebecca stood.
"Records about the company?"
"Yes."
"Did Victor know?"
"I don't know."
Ethan was already reaching for his jacket.
Dana shook her head.
"No."
He glared.
"You don't even know what I'm asking."
"You are not going to West Virginia."
"I'm sixteen."
"You're still not going."
Sarah looked at Ethan.
"She's right."
He turned on her.
"Don't."
Sarah held his gaze.
"If Grant is trying to lead us there, we do not walk in without law enforcement."
Ethan stopped.
That was different.
Grant had filed the school request.
Maybe it was not a mistake.
Maybe it was bait.
Rebecca called the investigator.
The next morning, a team entered the old Briar Glen cabin.
The basement safe was still there.
It had been concealed behind wood paneling.
The current owner had never known.
Inside were files.
Company audits.
Copies of contracts.
Insurance policies.
And one sealed envelope addressed in Owen's handwriting.
SARAH ONLY.
The investigator called from the cabin.
Sarah put the phone on speaker.
"Can you open it?"
"Not without documenting chain of custody."
Ethan paced.
"What does the outside say?"
"That is all."
The investigator paused.
"Wait."
"What?"
"There is writing on the back."
Sarah's hand tightened around the phone.
"What does it say?"
The investigator read it aloud.
If Sarah cannot receive this, give it to Ethan when he is old enough to understand.
Ethan stopped pacing.
Noah looked at him.
Sarah's eyes filled.
The investigator continued.
"There is one more line."
Ethan's voice was barely audible.
"Read it."
May you like
The man did.
Do not trust Victor Lang.
