Chapter 3 - The Things Ethan Had Been Apologizing For
Mark did not ask Ethan questions in the truck.
That mattered.
He drove them to his townhouse, ordered pizza, gave Ethan the guest room, and waited.
Ethan finally started talking while picking mushrooms off his slice.
There had been the cereal.
The broken lamp.
Gary’s missing twenty-dollar bill.
A muddy footprint on the hallway rug.
A coffee mug shattered beside the couch.
A red marker streak across the kitchen island.
Each time, Linda told Gary Ethan had done it.
Each time, Ethan denied it.
Each time, Linda eventually took him aside.
“She says arguing makes Gary worse.”
Brooke stopped eating.
“What does she tell you to say?”
Ethan stared at his pizza.
“Just sorry.”
“For things you didn’t do?”
He nodded.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Brooke felt embarrassed by the answer.
Not because of Ethan.
Because she lived in the same house.
She remembered the lamp.
Gary had been furious because it belonged to his late father.
Ethan cried so hard he hiccupped.
Brooke yelled at Gary to leave him alone.
Later, Linda told Brooke:
He finally admitted it.
Brooke never asked Ethan herself.
She assumed their mother had handled it.
“How come you didn’t tell me?”
Ethan looked confused.
“I did.”
Brooke went still.
“When?”
“The lamp.”
She remembered.
Ethan had whispered from the hallway:
I swear I didn’t touch it.
Brooke had hugged him.
Then told him, “Just stay away from Gary tonight.”
She had believed she was protecting him.
She had not investigated the lie underneath the danger.
Not once.
Not then.
Repeatedly.
Mark sat across the table.
“What made you call me today?”
Brooke looked at him.
“Mom.”
“What about her?”
“She’s been weird whenever you come up.”
Mark smiled without humor.
“That’s not new.”
“No. Different weird.”
Two weeks earlier, Brooke overheard Linda and Gary arguing in the garage.
Gary said:
Your brother needs to stay out of this house.
Linda answered:
Then stop giving him reasons to come over.
Brooke had assumed they meant Mark disliked Gary.
Now she wondered what reasons meant.
Her phone buzzed.
Linda.
COME HOME TOMORROW. WE ARE NOT DOING THIS.
Then another message.
DO NOT FILL ETHAN’S HEAD WITH THINGS HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND.
Brooke showed Mark.
He read it.
“She thinks I’m making him say this.”
“She’ll say I am.”
Mark handed back the phone.
“What do you want to do?”
Brooke almost said, I don’t know.
Instead:
“I want somebody outside our family to hear Ethan.”
Mark nodded.
“School counselor?”
Brooke looked toward the stairs.
Ethan’s backpack sat beside the guest-room door.
“Yes.”
The next morning, Brooke drove Ethan to school.
Before he got out, he touched her sleeve.
“If I tell Mrs. Patel... do I have to say Mom lies?”
Brooke swallowed.
“You only have to say what happened.”
Ethan looked toward the school entrance.
“Will she hate me?”
“Mom?”
He nodded.
Brooke wanted to promise no.
She had spent too much time making promises she could not control.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan opened the door.
Then Brooke said:
“But telling the truth isn’t something you have to apologize for.”
May you like
Ethan looked at her for a second.
Then he walked inside.
