Ethan didn't sleep.
He watched the ceiling morph from night into morning without blinking. The house around him stirred as usual—soft footfalls of housekeepers, the whirr of the espresso machine—but inside him, everything had changed.
By midmorning, he was seated in his father's old study—Russell's sanctuary—surrounded by empty bookshelves and decaying dreams. In front of him: a secure laptop. New email. New identity. A message ready to send.
Subject: Regarding Ethan Neal
From: ethan.inquiry@protonmail.com
To: legal@nealtech.com
> "I believe I am the subject of a missing person case from 2006.
I request a private meeting with Jonah and Miriam Neal regarding a deeply personal matter.
This is not a scam. Please confirm by phone. —E"
He hovered for a second… then clicked Send.
The reply came three hours later, from a private legal assistant.
> "Your message has been forwarded to Mr. and Mrs. Neal. They will contact you directly within 24 hours."
That evening, while sitting on the edge of his pool, staring at the reflection of his shattered world, his phone rang. No Caller ID.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice, soft but restrained: "Is this Ethan?"
His breath caught. "Yes."
"This is Miriam Neal."
Her voice cracked on the last syllable.
There was a silence, not of awkwardness but reverence. As if time itself paused for them to speak.
"We need to see you," she said.
---
The meeting was set at a private estate just outside of Palo Alto. No media. No lawyers. Just them.
When Ethan stepped into the garden, Jonah Neal stood tall, graying at the temples, his posture tight. Miriam sat beside him, visibly shaking.
They stared at him as if they'd seen a ghost.
And maybe they had.
"I don't know where to begin," Ethan said.
"You're… real," Miriam whispered. "You're alive."
Jonah stepped forward but didn't touch him. "We looked for you for years. We hired every investigator. But the trail was cold. And the guilt..." His voice cracked. "It ate us alive."
"Why guilt?" Ethan asked.
Jonah didn't answer.
But Miriam did.
"Because we took something from them too. And they took you."
Ethan looked between them.
"So it's true?"
"Yes," Jonah said. "Russell was brilliant. He built the platform. I made it marketable. But I wanted more. I pitched it behind his back. I rewrote the credits. I... erased him."
"And when you had me, they took me," Ethan said.
Miriam began to cry. "You were gone, and so was the part of us that deserved to be happy."
There was silence.
The garden was beautiful. The people before him were beautiful. But he didn't feel at home. Not yet.
Jonah stepped forward again. "We know you don't owe us anything. But we want to know you. Help you. Be part of whatever you decide."
Ethan looked up at the sky. It was clear. Too clear.
He didn't speak yet.
Because the storm inside him hadn't passed.
---
End of Chapter 5