Chapter 10 - THE TRAIN HOME
The Oregon coast was everything Ethan had dreamed of.
The ocean was a vast,
sparkling blue that mirrored the sky.
We lived in a small cottage with a porch that looked out over the waves.
Ethan had a new room,
filled with books and trains and the sound of the surf.
He went to a special school nearby where the teachers listened when he spoke.
He didn't have to press his hands over his ears anymore.
The world wasn't too loud here.
It was just right.
I worked as a researcher for a legal firm,
helping other families fight for justice.
I used my father’s log book as a reminder.
A reminder that the truth always finds its way home.
My mother wrote to us every week.
She was in a minimum-security facility in Ohio.
She said she was finally learning how to breathe without the weight of the secret.
She asked for pictures of the ocean.
I sent them,
but I didn't tell her everything.
Some things were just for us.
One afternoon,
Ethan and I were sitting on the beach.
He was building a train track in the sand.
A long,
perfect line that stretched toward the water.
“Dad would like the ocean,”
he said suddenly.
It was the first time he had mentioned him in months.
“He would,
Ethan,”
I replied,
leaning my head on his shoulder.
“He would love it.”
Ethan pulled a small,
metal train from his pocket.
The blue one.
He placed it at the end of the track.
“He’s here,”
he said,
pointing to the horizon.
“He’s in the blue.”
I looked at the water,
feeling a sense of peace I had never known.
We had survived Gary Mills.
We had survived the silence.
And we had found our way home.
I reached out and took Ethan’s hand.
He didn't flinch.
He squeezed it tight.
The waves crashed against the shore,
a rhythmic,
beautiful sound.
The blue trains had finally come home.
And for the first time in our lives,
May you like
everyone was listening.
The End.
