Patricia is in a care facility now, receiving treatment. She has good days and bad days. On good days, she knows Michael is gone. On bad days, she asks when we're bringing him home.
We visit sometimes. Not often. Always with boundaries.
Daniel carries guilt like a stone in his chest—for not telling me, for not seeing the signs, for protecting his mother instead of his daughter.
But here's what I know now:
Family secrets don't disappear. They wait. They grow. They reach across generations and pull the innocent inside.
And the scariest part?
Sometimes the monsters aren't under the bed.
Sometimes they're in the nursery down the hall. Waiting. Always waiting.
For their brother to come home.
THE END
