After the emotional reunion with his newfound family, Kyle was left dazed, feeling as if he had stepped into someone else's life. Isaac turned to him as the doctor finished up the paperwork for his discharge. "Kyle," he said softly, "do you have anywhere to go? Anyone who might be worried about you?"
Kyle glanced down at the hospital bed, his fingers tracing the wrinkles on the thin white sheet. The truth weighed heavily on his chest. "No," he admitted quietly. "There's no one."
Isaac's expression softened as he placed a reassuring hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Then come with us," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Stay with your family."
"What?" Kyle's voice cracked, barely able to believe what he was hearing. His throat tightened with a mix of hope and doubt. He didn't know if he deserved this, didn't know if it was real.
"Because you're family," Isaac said, his tone firm yet kind, leaving no room for argument. Kyle didn't know how to respond. His mind was still reeling from the revelation that he was not just Kyle, the boy who had grown up with nothing and no one, but Ethan, a name whispered in the shadows of his dreams.
The doctor returned, interrupting the moment with a cheery, "You're all set!" With that, Isaac helped him into a wheelchair, ignoring his protests that he could walk just fine. "Good, can we go now?" Elise piped up impatiently as they rolled toward the exit, her voice echoing in the sterile hospital hallway. Her mother, Clarissa, shot her a stern look. "What?" Elise defended herself, shrugging. "I just don't like hospitals."
The car ride to the mansion felt like a blur. Kyle was too overwhelmed to speak, staring out the window as the lights of the city flickered by, giving way to the darkened countryside. Soon, the looming silhouette of the Rivers mansion emerged in the distance, its many windows glowing faintly in the night like the eyes of a watchful beast.
As the cars pulled up the driveway, Kyle was struck by the sheer size of the estate. The mansion stood proudly atop a hill, a massive structure of stone and wrought iron that seemed almost too large to be a home. It resembled a castle, with its tall towers and ivy-covered walls that told of a long and storied past. Yet, there was something modern about it too, like a grand old relic that had been carefully preserved and then brought up to date with just the right touches.
"Welcome home," Isaac said, turning off the engine and glancing at Kyle with a reassuring smile. But the words felt heavy, foreign, as though they were meant for someone else. Could he truly call this place home?
He hesitated as he stepped out of the car, his gaze drifting over the mansion's many windows. There was something about the house that seemed to swallow the night, pulling it into its depths. The mansion's large wooden doors groaned open as they approached, revealing an entrance hall so grand that it left Kyle feeling even smaller than he already did.
He had never seen a place like this. The entrance was vast, with a ceiling so high it felt as if it could reach the sky. A massive crystal chandelier hung from above, its hundreds of tiny glass pieces catching the light and scattering it across the marble floor in delicate patterns. The room smelled of polished wood and old books, like a place that had held many lives and stories within its walls.
Clarissa led the way up the grand staircase, which split off into two wings at the top. The thick carpeting muffled their footsteps, and the silence felt almost unnatural, broken only by the faint ticking of an ornate grandfather clock standing in the corner. Kyle's gaze kept drifting to the paintings that lined the walls, portraits of the Rivers family, their stern faces and old-fashioned clothing giving the place a sense of history that weighed down on him.
"Your great-grandparents," Isaac explained, noticing Kyle's curiosity. "They've watched over this place for a long time."
Kyle shuddered involuntarily. There was a certain coldness in those eyes, as though the people in the paintings hadn't quite left this world behind. The more he looked, the more it felt as if they were watching him back.
Isaac led him down a long hallway to a bedroom that seemed more like a hotel suite than a room in a house. The bed was a large four-poster, draped in deep red velvet curtains that hung down like heavy theater drapes. A pair of armchairs flanked a stone fireplace, where a small fire crackled softly, filling the air with a subtle warmth.
"This is your room," Isaac said, his tone almost casual, as if the enormity of what he was offering wasn't obvious. "There's a bathroom through there," he pointed to a door on the right, "and if you need anything, just let us know. We're just down the hall."
Kyle nodded stiffly. He wanted to say something, but his words caught in his throat. This room felt like it belonged to someone else, someone who deserved the life he was being thrust into. He set his bag down beside the bed, though it looked absurdly out of place in a room that seemed more like a museum than a living space.
He wandered over to the window and pulled back the curtains, gazing out at the grounds. The estate stretched far into the distance, with manicured lawns that rolled down toward a line of trees in the distance. The darkness outside seemed to press in against the glass, and for a moment, he thought he saw something move out there, a figure slipping between the shadows cast by the trees.
He blinked and looked again, but there was nothing. Just the darkness and the night wind stirring the leaves.
Turning away from the window, Kyle noticed a large mirror standing in the corner, its surface slightly clouded. As he walked over to it, his reflection wavered in the foggy glass. For a moment, he thought he saw another face in the reflection, a child's face, with wide eyes staring back at him. He took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but it was just his own face staring back at him, tired and pale. Just exhaustion, he told himself. The last few days had been too much for anyone to handle.
Sinking down onto the edge of the bed, Kyle tried to relax, but the quiet was unsettling. The mansion felt too big, too empty despite all the people who were supposedly there. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, not by the family but by the house itself, as though it had its own presence that loomed in every corner.
Kyle lay back on the bed and stared up at the intricate patterns carved into the ceiling. He could hear the faint murmur of voices somewhere in the house, too distant to make out. Closing his eyes, he tried to let the exhaustion take over and drag him into sleep.
But just as he was drifting off, a faint whisper echoed through the room, a voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
"Ethan…"
His eyes flew open, but the room was empty, the fire still crackling quietly in the hearth. The voice had been so real, like someone was standing right next to him. He sat up, his heart racing, and scanned the room. There was nothing, only the stillness of the night.
Kyle sank back into the bed, clutching the blanket tightly around himself. He was no longer sure if it was just exhaustion or something else. It wasn't just the mansion's size that made him feel small, it was the weight of a history that wasn't his, a name that felt like a ghost or the fact that it feels like something sinister might be going on. But he shouldn't feel that way since he was with family, Right?