Chapter 12 - Ethan Asked Whether Isabella Hated Him
Ethan started therapy.
He also started sleeping with the lights on.
William moved them temporarily into another house.
One evening Ethan asked:
“Does Isabella hate me?”
William called me afterward because he didn't know what to say.
I told him the answer wasn't mine to give.
He needed professional guidance.
Eventually, he told Ethan something simple.
“What Isabella did was wrong. You didn't cause it.”
That was enough for a five-year-old.
The adult version was harder.
Isabella did not hate Ethan.
In some twisted way, she had tried to protect him financially.
She had also traumatized him to protect her own secrets.
Love and harm could coexist.
That truth was uncomfortable.
It mattered.
Meanwhile, William's medical testing confirmed he carried the inherited cardiac mutation.
He began appropriate monitoring.
For thirty-nine years, he had lived without information everyone else believed he couldn't handle.
He was furious.
At Natalie.
At Isabella.
At himself.
Then he confronted one more mistake.
He had spent two years after Natalie’s death keeping Ethan away from discussions about her.
He thought memories would make the boy sad.
He boxed photographs.
Locked rooms.
Avoided questions.
He was repeating the same family pattern.
Deciding what someone else could emotionally survive.
So he changed it.
He moved Natalie’s photographs back into Ethan’s bedroom.
He answered questions.
When he didn't know an answer, he said so.
Then Ethan made one request.
“I want my red backpack.”
The backpack was still missing.
Isabella claimed she had hidden it after locking Ethan away.
She refused at first to say where.
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That refusal became the final obstacle.
Because without the backpack, we still didn't know what else Natalie had intended Ethan to receive.
