I stayed mad at my mom for days after that. I
went to Dad’s office with him every day to
く
show her I was serious.
She was mad at first, too. She thought I was
being unreasonable. But Dad talked to her,
and she eventually gave in.
After a week of not speaking, she took me to
the amusement park. She apologized, told me
she loved me, and we made up.
Maybe it was my younger body affecting me,
but I actually felt the excitement of a little kid
at an amusement park.
But as the day went on, I started thinking
about my daughter, my one–year–old baby.
I’d imagined taking her to amusement parks,
to the beach, hiking in the mountains. I
wanted to show her the world, let her see
everything, hear everything, wear everything,
taste everything. And Olivia had taken that
away from me.
I wondered if my daughter was okay, if she
was scared, if she had nightmares.
<
And my parents. How were they coping with
losing their child?
And Ethan. He tended to overthink things.
How was he?
Thinking about my past life always brought
me down.
Mom and Dad thought I was tired from
playing, so they took me home.
But at the entrance to our neighborhood, I
saw a familiar face.
Well, not exactly familiar. I’d only seen
pictures of Ethan when he was seven.
He was with his mom, my future mother–in-
law. She was still in her twenties, but she
already carried herself with an air of
elegance.
They were about to leave.
Ethan had told me he didn’t have any family
nearby. I realized what was happening.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my dad’s hair
ᄀ
and yelled, “Ethan!”
Ethan’s head snapped up. He saw us and ran
over.
“Ouch! Let go of my hair, kiddo! That’s all
I’ve got left!”
I quickly let go.
Dad winced, pulling me off his shoulders.
Ethan reached for me, but Dad stopped him,
putting a hand on his forehead. “Hey, kid!
What do you think you’re doing? No touching!
Remember what I said about keeping your
hands to yourself?”
Ethan blinked, his eyes still red–rimmed, like
he’d been crying. Mom thought Dad had
made him cry, so she offered him a snack and
scolded my dad. “He’s just a little boy! Don’t
be so mean!”
Dad looked a little hurt, but he stayed firmly
between Ethan and me.
Ethan took the snack and politely greeted my
く
parents. Mom loved well–behaved children
and gave him another snack.
Dad grumbled, then whispered to me, “Where
do you know this little punk from, sweetie?”
I mumbled something about Ethan helping me
once. Dad reluctantly greeted him.
Ethan’s mom came over then, and they all
made small talk.
I grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him toward
the sandbox and slide.
Once we were out of earshot, I squatted by
the sandbox, pretending to play, and asked, “What’s going on? Why are you back here?”
Chapter 2
Ethan stared at me for a moment, then shook his head with a small smile. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Olivia didn’t kill me. I… lived a full life.
Ashley, Mom and Dad… they were still
around. I had to take care of them.”
Hearing that, I relaxed, then felt a pang of
sympathy. I squeezed his shoulder. “You’ve
been through a lot.”
Aside from sympathy, there was sadness, too.
I asked Ethan about my daughter and parents.
He looked down, answering softly.
“Mom and Dad were heartbroken,” he said
quietly. “But they stayed strong for Ashley.
She was really traumatized, but I took her to
child psychologists, and… she was so young.
Eventually, she forgot.”
