Chapter 4 - The Ghost of a Father
The afternoon sun slanted through the windshield of Ethan’s sedan, turning the dust motes in the cabin into suspended gold. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his eyes fixed on the address scrawled on the crumpled napkin in his lap. It was a dive bar on the edge of town, a place that smelled of stale beer and cheap cologne. It felt wrong. It felt dangerous.
Ethan had spent the last three days tracking David Miller down. It had taken every ounce of his investigative instinct, cross-referencing old yearbooks and social media footprints, but he had found him. Liam’s biological father. The man who had slept with Sarah ten years ago and left town, never knowing he had left a mark on the world.
Ethan’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He wasn’t doing this for himself. He told himself that as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was doing it for Liam. For the first time since the lunchroom incident, Liam had a glimmer of hope. A real father. A connection. If Ethan could bridge that gap, if he could make this work, maybe the house could finally stop feeling like a pressure cooker.
He walked into the bar. The air was thick with smoke and the low thrum of a blues track. He scanned the room, his gaze landing on a man in the corner booth. David Miller. He looked older than the photos Ethan had found online—weather-beaten, with a beard that hadn't been trimmed in days. He was nursing a whiskey, looking out the window, lost in thought.
Ethan’s breath hitched. There was no mistaking the jawline, the shape of the eyes. It was Liam.
Ethan approached the booth, his legs feeling heavy, like they were made of lead. "Mr. Miller?" he asked, his voice sounding thin and unfamiliar.
The man turned. His expression was guarded, wary, but as he locked eyes with Ethan, something shifted. The wariness dissolved into a slow, predatory recognition.
"Easy," David said, his voice gravelly. He didn't stand up. "You must be Ethan."
Ethan froze. "How... how did you know?"
David took a slow sip of his drink, the ice clinking against the glass. "I've been expecting you. I've been expecting us for a long time."
Ethan sat down opposite him, the booth creaking under the weight of the silence that stretched between them. "I’m here because of Liam. My mother told me everything. I want to help him. I think he deserves to know you."
David smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was a smile that belonged to a shark circling prey. "He does. God, he does. He’s got my eyes. I can see it in yours, too. You look at him like he’s the most important thing in the world."
"I am," Ethan said, his voice hardening with defensive pride.
"Are you?" David leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The proximity was invasive. "You think you can just walk in here and play the hero, Ethan? You think you can hand him over to me and walk away?"
"I'm not handing him over," Ethan snapped, sensing the shift. "I'm giving him a choice. A father."
"A father?" David laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "I left that life behind for a reason. I’m not looking for a father-son bonding moment in a park. I’m looking for what I was denied."
Ethan leaned back, crossing his arms. "What are you talking about?"
David reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He slid it across the table. Ethan hesitated, then unfolded it. It was a photo. It was a grainy, security camera shot of the school cafeteria from three days ago. It showed Ethan stepping in front of the bully, shielding Liam. It was a good shot. Too good. It captured the angle of the camera perfectly.
Ethan looked up, his pulse spike. "Where did you get this?"
David leaned back, swirling the ice in his glass. "That’s the thing about being a ghost, Ethan. You can see everything, but you can never touch anything."
Ethan felt a cold dread coil in his stomach. "You’ve been watching us."
"I’ve been watching you," David corrected, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a physical touch. "I’ve been watching you protect him. I’ve watched you carry the weight of a secret that isn't yours to carry. I saw you in that cafeteria. I saw the look in your eyes."
"You're sick," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling. "You don't care about Liam. You just want to cause chaos."
May you like
David’s smile widened, a flash of teeth in the dim light. "I want what's mine. And since you've been so helpful in finding me... I think you're going to be part of it, too."
Ethan stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. "I'm leaving."
