The Heir Who Returned

Chapter 7

Mrs Sarah packed her children's clothes and her own clothes into one bag, since she knew today was the day she had to leave the rest behind.

"Mum, where are we going?" Lily asked curiously.

"We are going to my hometown," she said, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.

Caleb stood behind the door, quietly watching the situation his mum was facing. Ethan stood close to him.

"Ethan," Mrs Sarah called.

"Yes ma," Ethan answered as he approached her.

"Ethan dear, don't you still remember anything?" she asked, trying not to sound harsh. "Your family's name, your town or city where you lived, anything?"

"Mrs Sarah, I'm sorry, but I can't remember anything," he said, avoiding her eyes.

I won't be safe if I go there now, Ethan thought to himself. Aunty Vanessa will know her plan failed and she will try other means to kill me. I have to stay here with them till I'm of age.

Just as Mrs Sarah zipped up the last bag, a car pulled up outside. She looked through the window and her heart sank. It was Mr Garrick's car, and in the passenger seat sat her sister, Vicky.

"Oh no," Mrs Sarah muttered. "Not now."

Mr Garrick walked in first, not bothering to knock. Vicky followed behind him in a bright coat that looked far too expensive for the dusty little street they lived on. She looked around the small, half-packed house with a curled lip.

"Well, well," Mr Garrick said, clapping slowly. "Packing up already? I didn't think you'd give up the house this fast, Sarah."

"We had no choice, as you well know," Mrs Sarah said, holding Lily close to her side.

Vicky laughed, a sharp, cold sound. "Look at you. Boxes and bags like a beggar on the street. And you used to tell Mother you didn't need anyone's help." She stepped further into the room, her eyes moving over Caleb, then Lily, before landing on Ethan.

"And who is this?" Vicky asked, tilting her head. "I don't remember you having three children, Sarah."

"He's staying with us for now," Mrs Sarah said quickly. "He's not—"

"Not yours, obviously," Vicky cut in, smirking. "Another mouth to feed, and you can't even feed the two you already have. Honestly, Sarah, some things never change. You always did take in things you couldn't afford to keep."

Ethan clenched his fists but said nothing, his jaw tight. Caleb stepped a little closer to him, as if to shield him from the words.

"Say what you came to say, Vicky," Mrs Sarah said, her voice tired.

"I only came to see you off," Vicky said sweetly, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. "It's not every day my sister loses her house. I wanted to remember the moment." She glanced at Mr Garrick, and the two of them laughed together, the sound echoing through the half-empty house.

Mrs Sarah said nothing. She had learned a long time ago that arguing with her sister only made things worse. She simply picked up the last bag, took Lily's hand, and walked past them both toward the door.

"Come on, children," she said. "It's time to go."

Caleb and Ethan followed without a word, leaving Mr Garrick and Vicky standing in the empty living room, still smiling at each other like they had won something.

The drive to Mrs Sarah's hometown was long and quiet. Lily fell asleep against the window halfway through, and Caleb stared out at the passing fields, saying nothing. Ethan sat in the back, watching Mrs Sarah's tired face in the rearview mirror, wondering how much more she could carry before she broke.

By the time they reached the old house at the edge of town, the sun was already low in the sky. The building stood alone at the end of a narrow road, its paint peeling and its windows covered in a thin layer of dust.

Mrs Sarah stood in front of the door for a long moment before she found the courage to push it open.

I haven't been in this house since my mother died, she thought, stepping inside.

The air smelled of dust and old wood. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling, and a fine grey film covered every surface — the table, the chairs, the old photographs still sitting on the shelf exactly where her mother had left them.

"Mum, it's so dusty in here," Lily said, wrinkling her nose.

"I know, sweetheart," Mrs Sarah said softly. "We'll clean it up. It'll feel like home again soon."

She set the bags down and rolled up her sleeves. There was no time to feel sorry for herself — the children needed a clean place to sleep, and the sun was already setting. She found an old broom leaning against the wall and began sweeping the years of dust from the floor, coughing as clouds of it rose into the air.

Ethan and Caleb worked beside her, wiping down the shelves and the old wooden table, while Lily carried the smaller items outside to shake them clean. For a while, the house began to feel a little less like a tomb and a little more like somewhere they could actually live.

Then, without warning, Mrs Sarah stopped sweeping.

A sharp pain shot through her chest, sudden and deep, stealing the breath right out of her lungs. She pressed a hand against her chest and gripped the edge of the table to keep herself standing.

"Mum?" Caleb turned around, his eyes wide with worry. "Mum, are you okay?"

Mrs Sarah tried to answer, tried to tell him she was fine, but the pain tightened its grip, and the room around her began to blur at the edges.