The world shattered for Ethan Moore the night his father was murdered. In the days that followed, he withdrew into himself, the trauma sealing his voice in a prison of silence. Words became meaningless, unable to convey the depth of his pain and loss. Ethan's eyes, once bright with curiosity and hope, now mirrored the void left by his father's death.
Eventually, Ethan was adopted by a distant relative, a kind but somewhat distant woman named Margaret. She took him in, providing a stable home and the necessities of life. Margaret was patient with Ethan's silence, understanding it was a defense mechanism. She enrolled him in therapy, hoping he might find his voice again, but progress was slow
School became a battleground. Bullies saw his silence as weakness, a target for their cruelty. Ethan endured their taunts and beatings with stoic resilience, never uttering a sound, never fighting back. His classmates laughed, calling him a mute freak. He became the school's pariah, the boy who wouldn't speak.
Joe, his only friend, always stood by him. Joe was a tall, lanky boy with a shock of red hair and an indomitable spirit. Despite the mockery and threats from the bullies, Joe defended Ethan fiercely, becoming his protector.
"Leave him alone!" Joe would shout, stepping between Ethan and his tormentors. "He's been through enough!"
Joe's bravery often resulted in bruises and black eyes, but he never wavered. After each altercation, he would help Ethan to his feet, a reassuring smile on his face. "Don't worry, Ethan. One day, they'll see how strong you really are."
Ethan appreciated Joe's loyalty, but he couldn't bring himself to respond, even with a nod. The silence was his shield, his way of coping with the overwhelming grief.
After a particularly vicious attack one afternoon, Ethan sat on the school steps, his lip bleeding and his shirt torn. Joe plopped down beside him, panting from the fight.
"They're just idiots," Joe muttered, handing Ethan a tissue. "One day, we'll be out of this place, and none of this will matter."
Ethan took the tissue, pressing it to his lip, and offered Joe a weak smile. It was the closest he could come to expressing his gratitude.
Ethan's nights were haunted by nightmares of his father's death. He would wake up in a cold sweat, his father's final words echoing in his mind. "Finish what we started." But how could he? He was just a boy, mute and broken.
Meanwhile, Edgar Vance's life flourished. With the stolen formula, Vance's career skyrocketed. He rebranded himself as a visionary in the medical field, claiming credit for breakthroughs that were never his. The cure for Morterra was within reach, but Vance saw it as a goldmine rather than a humanitarian achievement. His company, Vance Pharmaceuticals, became a powerhouse, minting money from patents and research grants.
In his luxurious office, Vance often thought back to that fateful night. He felt no remorse, only a twisted sense of satisfaction. Alistair Moore's ideals were noble but naive. Vance believed he had done the world a favor by taking control of the research.
One evening, Vance sat behind his mahogany desk, gazing out at the city skyline. His assistant, Carla, knocked lightly on the door before entering.
"Sir, the board meeting is in an hour. They're expecting an update on the Morterra project."
Vance nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Tell them the project is progressing as planned. We're on the verge of a breakthrough that will change the world."
Carla nodded and left the room, leaving Vance to his thoughts. He reveled in his success, completely unaware that the boy he had left shattered and mute was silently plotting his downfall.
Ethan's journey to reclaim his father's legacy would be long and fraught with challenges. But deep inside, the spark of determination was beginning to ignite. He would find his voice, not through words, but through action. And when the time came, Vance would face the consequences of his greed and betrayal.