As nighttime loomed, Ethan leaned back and remembered he'd only eaten breakfast when he heard the door to the hotel room open. This meant his mom, dad, or both had just returned. He hurried to finish before they called him for dinner.
The digital board flickered to life—his entire operation spread across nodes and branches like a cybernetic brain.
Phase 1: 60% complete. All aliases seeded. Two fully active. Gavin Rowe. Samuel Rourke.
Phase 2: 15%—Property scouting active. Financials anonymized. Gear research logged.
Samuel Rourke was now more than a name. He had history. Activity. Soon, he'd have money and a home.
But it wasn't just the logistics that weighed on Ethan now. It was the eyes.
Paige said Felicia, or Ms. Harper, the teacher alias she was using, was apparently searching for him for some reason.
Peter was too polite to press—but she probably also had some suspicions about him, too.
Though Paige… she hadn't asked much, but she was smart. If she dug too deep...
'No one can know what I'm doing. Not my friends. Not my parents. Especially not people like Nick Fury.'
He tapped the whiteboard.
"How to handle 'parents'?" it read.
They'd already accepted his story. But for how long? Sooner or later, he'd probably be dragged into another incident. They were worried now. Watching him closer. His long stays in his room and his late nights. If another incident occurred, then his already limited freedom would become almost non-existent.
Because of this, he needed to pay attention to their gaze and expectations. It was tiresome, to say the least, and if he wanted to continue living in this loving home, he'd need to create the narrative of a traumatized, increasingly withdrawn son. He could pull it off for a short time, but subtly reshaping their image of him constantly was too tedious.
Ethan stared at his reflection in the dark monitor.
"If I'm going to survive this world," he whispered, "I have to be a ghost no one can catch. That means getting rid of ties."
He tapped the screen.
"No name. No trail. No home but the ones I build myself."
He turned off the screen, then paused.
'Now how should I deal with my 'parents'?'
The soft clink of plates from the kitchenette pulled Ethan out of his thoughts. His mother's voice followed—gentle, warm, trying to sound casual but tinged with that barely-hidden concern. "Ethan, honey? Dinner's ready."
He saved his files, minimized the identity board, and stood, forcing his expression into something tired but untroubled. He stepped out of the bedroom and into the soft light of the hotel's small dining area.
His mother looked up immediately. Her hair was pulled back messily, dark circles under her eyes. His father sat at the table, still in his work clothes, posture stiff.
He hadn't noticed the previous day, but looking at them now, he could see that both of them looked like they hadn't slept in days.
'This is all my fault. They'd be better off without me. But that'd make them sad, and they don't deserve that.'
"There you are," his mom said, crossing over and pulling him into a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than normal. "We were starting to worry you were going full cave troll on us."
Ethan gave a small, sheepish smile. "Just… decompressing like you said."
His dad studied him for a moment, then nodded toward the table. "Eat. Then we talk."
Dinner was quiet—rotisserie chicken, reheated stew, rice, and steamed vegetables. His mother asked about his appetite. His father asked about sleep. Both tried not to ask what they really wanted to know.
When the plates were cleared, his dad finally said it.
"We spoke to the police again. They want us to bring you in tomorrow morning. You were… reported missing, Ethan. So they need your statement."
Ethan nodded slowly. He'd prepared for this. "I figured. Alright. Sorry to cause so much trouble."
His mother reached across the table, placing a hand on his. "Nonsense it's not your fault sweetie! We didn't know what happened. You just vanished, and then we heard from the hospital that some girl was found with you, and you were out of it… the police didn't know anything, and neither did the school. We thought we'd lost you."
Ethan forced his throat to tighten, just a little. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying you."
His dad leaned forward. "You don't need to apologize, Ethan. You said you were kidnapped and saved by heroes. We want you to tell the police everything so that they can catch this guy. So, go over with us again what happened."
Ethan took a breath. Time to deploy the full story.
"I was grabbed near the school," he said slowly, voice even. "Some guy—I didn't see his face. I was thrown into a van. I think it was tied to some glowing stuff. I blacked out. When I woke up, I was somewhere else. Underground or maybe a basement—I don't really know."
His parents stared, silently.
"I found one of the girls—Amy, my friend who went missing a few days before—there. She was trapped, too. And Rachel, another girl was… there but heavily injured. We woke up free and looked around, but soon found out that there was someone hunting us."
His mom's hand tightened slightly on his.
"We were just trying to survive, so we ran around until we were saved," Ethan added softly. "That's what happened. And I'm okay now. Mostly."
There was a long pause. His dad sat back. His mom gave him a worried smile.
"Well," she said at last, "you're home now. That's what matters. Let's stop talking about this dreary stuff."
"And after you go with your dad to the police station tomorrow," his mom added, "you're going to relax for a while. No late nights. No going out. Just… be here… with us."
Ethan smiled faintly. "Yeah. Of course. I don't feel I'm ready to go out either."
He stood, cleared his plate, and kissed his mother's cheek. "I'm gonna shower. Then probably crash."
She nodded, watching him go with a soft, haunted look.
Back in his room, Ethan toweled off the steam from the mirror and stared at himself. His expression shifted slowly—smile fading, eyes sharpening.
'They bought it. For now. Damn it, looks like I feel somewhat attached to them.'
But soon they would begin to ask more and more questions as he began to let them in. He'd have to keep them distant. Kind. Safe. Ethan wanted them out of the loop so they could live long happy lives.
The world he was walking into wouldn't spare anyone. Normal people here dropped like flies, and he couldn't have that happen to his 'mother' and 'father.'
But still, he couldn't afford to let their love get in the way of his survival.
The best thing for him and them is if they forget they ever had him as a son. With that, they could take the insurance money that would come from their destroyed house and fulfill whatever dreams they have. The question now was how to erase their memories of having a child safely.