The directions were simple enough, though Ethan’s heart thudded harder with each step. The woman’s words echoed in his ears—the boy was the only one who survived. Now, decades later, he was walking toward a life rebuilt from ruins.
At the edge of town, he found the house. It was small, weathered, the paint faded to gray, but the garden was neat, each plant trimmed with quiet care. A curtain shifted faintly at the window, and for a moment Ethan wondered if he was already being watched.