Chapter 17 - THE HOUSE WITHOUT WALLS
One year later, we moved.
We built a smaller house by the ocean.
No hidden rooms.
No secret passages.
No locked basement.
Every room had windows.
Perrin chose the color of his bedroom.
Blue.
He put his stuffed dog on the bed.
The same dog Rhea had kept.
The first night there, he asked me:
“Dad, can we leave the door open?”
I smiled.
“Of course.”
He looked at Elise.
“Mom?”
She nodded.
“Always.”
We left it open.
For the first time in years, nobody was afraid of what might be behind it.
Elise started painting again.
She had stopped after her disappearance.
I started working with the foundation.
We helped victims of financial crimes and families whose identities had been stolen.
Perrin began playing baseball.
He was terrible at first.
He didn't care.
He just liked running.
One afternoon, I watched him hit his first home run.
He ran toward me laughing.
“Dad!”
I caught him.
Elise joined us.
For a moment, the past disappeared.
Then Perrin asked:
“Do you remember the wall?”
I froze.
“Yes.”
“I don't want to remember it anymore.”
“You don't have to.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
Then he handed me something.
A drawing.
It showed three people holding hands.
Me.
Elise.
Perrin.
Above us was a blue sky.
At the bottom he had written:
OUR FAMILY DOESN'T HAVE SECRETS ANYMORE.
I couldn't speak.
Elise kissed his forehead.
And I realized something.
The wall had never been the worst part.
The worst part had been believing the people I loved could disappear without leaving a trace.
Now I knew better.
Love leaves evidence.
In memories.
In scars.
In children.
May you like
In the way someone still reaches for your hand after everything is gone.
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