Chapter 3

"Just the wind, I suppose," Ethan muttered after a moment, his voice returning to its normal, confident tone.

I pulled Leo back, pressing a finger to my lips, my heart hammering against my ribs.

We scurried back to the living room, the cartoon music suddenly loud and jarring.

A few minutes later, Ethan walked in, feigning surprise.

"Oh, you're still up? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

He smiled, the picture of a doting husband and father.

I forced a weak smile back. "Leo wanted to finish his show."

My voice sounded strange to my own ears, thin and shaky.

Ethan ruffled Leo' s hair. "Hey, sport. How' s my brave little man?"

Leo didn' t answer. He just stared at Ethan, his one good eye wide, filled with a confusion and hurt that mirrored my own.

Ethan frowned slightly but quickly covered it. "Tired, huh? Okay, off to bed."

He didn't notice Leo flinch away from his touch.

Later that night, after Leo was asleep, or pretending to be, Ethan sat on the edge of our bed.

"So, tomorrow' s the big day," he said, his voice soft. "Day 100."

I nodded, unable to speak.

"I was thinking," he continued, "I have a colleague, Chloe Vance. Her son, Liam, is about Leo' s age. They' ve just moved back to the city. Maybe they could come stay with us for a while? Get settled in. It would be nice for Leo to have another boy around."

Chloe. Liam. The names were like acid on my tongue.

He wanted them here. In our home.

The audacity of it stole my breath.

My mind raced. If I refused, he' d be suspicious. I needed time. I needed a plan.

"That... that sounds nice," I managed, my voice carefully neutral.

Ethan beamed. "Great! I knew you' d understand."

He leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head slightly, and his lips brushed my cheek. His touch felt like a brand.

As soon as he was asleep, I slipped out of bed.

I went to Leo' s room. He was awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Mommy?" he whispered.

I sat beside him, stroking his hair. "It' s okay, baby. We' re going to be okay."

"Daddy... he..." Leo' s voice trembled.

"I know, Leo. I know." My own voice broke. "We' re leaving. For real this time."

Leo sat up, his small face set with a new, heartbreaking maturity.

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a thin, blue notebook. His journal.

He' d started it after the accident, encouraged by Ethan. "To write down all the good things, Leo, all the ways Daddy is making it up to you."

Now, Leo opened it, his little hands shaking.

He began to tear out the pages, one by one.

Pages filled with his childish scrawl, detailing Ethan' s hollow acts of kindness, his own confusion, his pain.

"Kids at school called me Cyclops," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "Freak-eye."

He ripped out a page where he' d written: "Daddy promised to build the biggest LEGO castle with me. He said he loves me."

The torn paper fluttered to the floor.

"He lied, Mommy," Leo sobbed, burying his face in my shoulder. "He lied about everything."

I held him tight, my own tears falling silently.

"Yes, baby," I whispered into his hair, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "He did."

He finally looked up, his one eye fierce. "I want to go, Mommy. I don't want to see him ever again."