For the next few weeks, Ethan lived two lives.
By day, he was Ethan Neal—touring NealTech headquarters with Jonah, sitting in on product meetings, even meeting his supposed cousins. Miriam made him homemade meals and showed him photo albums filled with baby shoes and birthday hats that had never been used.
And by night, he returned to Kensington, to Diana's forced smiles and Russell's quiet sorrow. The house was tenser now. Everyone tiptoed around each other. Ethan no longer called them Mom and Dad. He didn't call them anything.
He had questions—dozens of them—but he couldn't bring himself to ask. Because deep down, he feared their answers might break him more than the silence.
One evening, Jonah invited him to a private room in the NealTech HQ—a room labeled Innovation Vault. Inside were framed patents, whiteboard concepts, and awards spanning two decades.
In the center was a glass display case.
Inside it: a worn notebook labeled "SEEDSPARK—Prototype Build" in black marker.
Ethan leaned closer.
The handwriting wasn't Jonah's.
It was Russell's.
"I never meant to keep this," Jonah said softly behind him. "After it all happened… part of me thought I'd return it. Another part wanted to keep the proof that it wasn't all me."
"You knew," Ethan said, his voice hollow. "You knew they were dying inside."
"I was scared," Jonah admitted. "Ashamed. I thought giving you back would unravel everything. And then you disappeared. And I had no one left to confess to."
Ethan looked away. "You had choices."
"I made the wrong ones," Jonah said. "I live with that."
Later that night, Ethan returned to Kensington and found Russell in the garden, sitting beside the old fountain. A bottle of scotch sat half-drained on the stone ledge.
Without turning, Russell said, "They showed you the vault?"
Ethan nodded.
"I knew they would. They always wanted to prove something."
"You built something incredible," Ethan said quietly. "And they made it huge. And then they took everything."
Russell took a long drink. "Including you."
Ethan looked at the man who had tucked him into bed for 18 years. "You took me too."
Russell nodded, eyes glistening. "And I'd do it again."
"Why?" Ethan whispered.
"Because you were the only thing in my life I didn't fail."
The words hit harder than Ethan expected.
He left without responding.
That night, he sat alone in his room—torn between two broken truths.
One family gave him life.
The other gave him love.
But which one gave him himself?
---
End of Chapter 6