Kyle's head spun as the officer stepped aside, and another man walked in. He was tall, with an air of authority, dressed in a suit so tailored it looked like it could have bought Kyle a new life twice over. Kyle squinted at the man, his thoughts sluggish from the painkillers and his mind still struggling to process the events that had led him here.
"Do you know who this is?" the officer asked.
Kyle shook his head slowly. "No," he murmured, then looked again, his eyes widening as recognition flickered in the back of his mind. "Wait... yes. I think I know you. You're Isaac Rivers, aren't you? Oh god, you're Isaac Rivers, I have seen you on TV and stuff," he said, a jolt of surprise shooting through him as he tried to sit up straighter in the bed.
The doctor quickly placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder, urging him to lie back down. "There's no need to stand," he said softly. "You need to rest."
Isaac Rivers took a step closer, the weight of his presence filling the small hospital room. He looked down at Kyle, his facial expression was calm but serious. "Yes, I'm Isaac Rivers," he confirmed. "And I was the one who found you that night. I'm glad to see you're awake."
Kyle's brow furrowed. "You found me?" he echoed, his voice laced with confusion. "I… I don't understand. Why would you go to all this trouble for someone like me?" It didn't make sense. A man like Isaac Rivers, who was practically a legend in the country, a name that appeared in the newspapers, the kind of man who people went out of their way to impress, shouldn't have anything to do with someone like him.
Isaac's gaze softened, though a hint of something darker lingered in his eyes. "Kyle, there's something you need to know," he said quietly. "I had an older brother named Garrett. He and his wife, Gwen, were traveling across the Brooklyn Bridge twenty-three years ago. They had their five-month-old son, Ethan, with them.....They died" Isaac's voice grew tighter, his jaw clenched slightly as though the memory still had the power to hurt him.
Kyle's heart thudded in his chest as he listened. "That's… awful," he managed, the words falling awkwardly from his lips. "I'm… I'm sorry, but I don't know what this has to do with me." His hands gripped the rough fabric of the hospital blanket, the feeling of unease growing with each word.
"Their car was hit by a truck," Isaac continued, his voice even but edged with a rawness Kyle hadn't expected from such a composed man. "The impact knocked them into the water. Garrett and Gwen didn't make it… but their son, Ethan… his body was never recovered. He was presumed dead." Isaac's eyes met Kyle's. "I believe that you are that boy. I believe you are Ethan."
Kyle's world tilted. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and for a moment, he was back in the water, drowning all over again. "What?" His voice was barely a whisper. "What… what do you mean?" His mind raced, desperately trying to catch up to the words that seemed impossible to grasp. "That's not… no, that can't be right."
"I know this is a lot to take in," Isaac said in a gentle but firm tone. "But I've spent years looking for answers, for any trace of my brother's son. And when I found you… there were too many things that lined up. The timing, the circumstances… even some old records I was able to dig up."
Kyle felt a surge of anger rise up from somewhere deep inside him. "No," he said, shaking his head vehemently. "I'm not him. I'm Kyle. I've always been Kyle." His voice broke as the words tumbled out. "I grew up in foster homes, bouncing from one place to the next. I wasn't… I wasn't some missing child from a rich family." His voice trembled with bitterness. "I was just a kid no one wanted."
Isaac's eyes held a mix of sadness and compassion. "You may not remember, and I wouldn't expect you to," he said. "You were a baby when it happened. But I've had DNA tests run, and they suggest a connection. You are… most likely my nephew."
The word "nephew" hit Kyle like a punch to the gut. He was suddenly aware of the room spinning slightly, the IV in his arm, the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. The pieces didn't fit, yet here they were, forcing themselves together in a way that made the world feel wrong, like it was turning inside out.
"This… this doesn't make sense," Kyle stammered, his throat tight. "Why didn't anyone find me back then? Why did I end up… like this?" He looked down at his hands, which were scarred and rough from years of hard work, his fingers trembling slightly. "I've spent my whole life just trying to survive. If I really was… if I was that boy… why did no one come for me?"
Isaac's expression darkened, his gaze hardening as though steeling himself for what he was about to say. "It wasn't easy," he replied. "There were a lot of things that went wrong in those first few days after the accident. The authorities assumed there were no survivors. There were no clues about where you might have ended up. For a long time, it felt like a lost cause… but I never stopped looking."
Kyle laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and painful in the quiet room. "And now you've found me," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "So what? What happens now? You just tell me that I'm someone else, and I'm supposed to just… accept it? That I'm not who I thought I was?"
"I'm not asking you to accept anything right away," Isaac said softly. "I just want you to understand the truth… to know where you came from."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Kyle's chest tightened, his breaths coming faster. "I don't know if I can… if I can do this," he murmured, the edges of his vision blurring with tears he hadn't realized were there. "My whole life has been… it's been hard enough trying to figure out who I am without… without this."
"I understand," Isaac said quietly, and there was a sincerity in his voice that made Kyle's heart ache. "You've had a life I can't even imagine, but you have a right to know. I don't want to force anything on you. I'm here to help you, to support you in whatever way you need."
Kyle swallowed hard, the reality of what Isaac was saying settling over him like a thick fog. The idea that he was Ethan, that he had once belonged to a family who loved him… it was like being handed a life that was never meant for him. It was too much. Too heavy.
"I don't know if I can be that person," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if I even want to be."
Isaac nodded slowly, as if he had expected this. "Take your time," he said. "There's no rush. You've spent your whole life searching for something… maybe this is a chance for you to finally find it."
Kyle turned his gaze to the window, where the first hints of dawn were beginning to creep into the sky. It felt like the end of everything he'd ever known, and the beginning of something he couldn't even begin to understand. Growing up alone from one foster care to the other certainly has its own emotions baggage, but why now? It still didnt make sense, how did he know he was Ethan? Seems like the more answer he got the bigger his questions were.