The Return of The Forgotten Son

The Detective

Victoria's POV

Three days passed in that hotel room.

I ate when the hunger became unbearable. Slept when exhaustion dragged me under. Mostly I sat and stared at walls, trying to figure out how to exist in a world where my family was gone.

On the fourth day, someone else knocked on my door.

"Miss Ashbourne? I'm Detective Sarah Chen. I need to speak with you about the deaths at your family estate."

My heart stopped. I'd known this was coming. You couldn't have four people die in one house without questions being asked.

I opened the door. Detective Chen was younger than I expected, maybe forty, with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense expression. She wore a grey suit and carried a notebook.

"May I come in?"

I nodded. She sat in the same chair Eleanor had used. I returned to my spot on the bed.

"I'm investigating the deaths of Dr. James Whitmore, Thomas Ashbourne, and Richard Ashbourne. All within seventy-two hours. All at the same location. You can understand why that raises concerns."

"They're saying it was carbon monoxide," I said carefully. "A gas leak."

"That's what the initial reports suggest. But there are inconsistencies." She flipped open her notebook. "Dr. Whitmore's body showed signs of extreme terror. Heart attack victims don't typically look like that. Thomas Ashbourne had unusual burn patterns on his skin that don't match carbon monoxide poisoning. And your father's body showed similar burns, plus he apparently fell down the stairs while on fire."

"What are you asking me?"

"I'm asking what really happened in that house."

I met her eyes. She looked tired. Like someone who'd seen too much and stopped believing easy answers.

"The truth?" I said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me. I've been a detective for fifteen years. I've seen things that don't make sense. Things that don't fit into neat boxes. So tell me what happened, and let me decide what I believe."

I took a deep breath. "My family killed my brother twenty years ago. They burned him alive in a ritual meant to summon something that would save their fortune. It worked. They got rich, and Elias died. But three days ago, something came back. Something wearing his face. And it killed everyone who was responsible for his death."

Detective Chen wrote in her notebook. Her expression didn't change. "A supernatural entity."

"Yes."

"Seeking revenge for a ritual murder."

"Yes."

She closed her notebook. "Okay."

I blinked. "Okay?"

"I believe you."

"You do?"

She stood and walked to the window. "My grandmother was from Taiwan. She told me stories about hungry ghosts and vengeful spirits. About how the dead don't always stay buried when they have unfinished business. I thought they were just stories until I became a detective."

She turned to face me. "Five years ago, I investigated a case where three men died in locked rooms. No signs of forced entry, no weapons, no explanation. But all three had been involved in covering up a murder ten years earlier. The victim's mother had performed some kind of ritual before she killed herself. A curse, they said. I never solved that case because there was nothing to solve. The dead woman had gotten her revenge."

"So you believe in ghosts?"

"I believe that some debts follow people beyond death. That justice doesn't always come from courts and prisons. That the universe has its own way of balancing the scales."

She sat back down. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to write in my report that the deaths were accidental. Gas leak, just like the initial assessment said. The house will be condemned. The estate will go to you as the sole heir. And this investigation will be closed."

"Why?"

"Because your family already paid their price. Because prosecuting a ghost isn't in my job description. And because you look like someone who's suffered enough."

Relief flooded through me. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I have questions that need answers, even if they don't go in my official report. Starting with your mother. Where is Margaret Ashbourne?"

"Still at the house. She won't leave."

"Why not?"

"Guilt. Madness. Maybe both. The entity showed her what she did. Let her feel one second of what Elias felt when he burned. It broke something in her."

Detective Chen made a note. "I need to speak with her. Can you take me to the manor?"

"I don't want to go back there."

"I understand. But your mother is the only other witness. I need her statement to close this case properly."

I didn't want to see the manor again. Didn't want to face Mother or the memories or the scorch marks in the chapel. But Detective Chen was giving me a way out. The least I could do was cooperate.

"Okay," I said. "I'll take you."

We drove in silence. My car felt foreign, like I was piloting someone else's vehicle. The roads were familiar but wrong, like looking at a photograph of a place you used to know.

The manor appeared through the trees. It looked worse than when I'd left. Windows were broken. The roof sagged. Smoke stains darkened the walls. The house was dying, rotting from the inside out.

"It looks haunted," Detective Chen observed.

"It is."

We parked in the circular driveway. The front door hung open. Snow had blown into the entrance hall, coating the marble floor in white.

"Mrs. Ashbourne?" Detective Chen called. Her voice echoed through the empty house.

No answer.

We moved deeper inside. The house was freezing. Our breath came out in clouds. The walls were covered in cracks, some wide enough to see through to the rooms beyond.

"This place isn't safe," Detective Chen said. "It could collapse at any moment."

"It's waiting," I said. "Waiting for one more death."

We found Mother in her bedroom. She sat in the same chair by the window, staring at nothing. The ritual book lay open in her lap. Her hair was completely white now, her face lined and ancient.

"Mother," I said softly.

She didn't look at me. "You came back."

"The detective needs to talk to you."

"There's nothing to say. We killed him. We deserve what happened."

Detective Chen knelt beside her chair. "Mrs. Ashbourne, I'm Detective Chen. I need to ask you some questions about the recent deaths."

Mother finally looked at her. Her eyes were empty. "They're all dead because of me. Because I chose money over my son. Because I thought I could buy my way to happiness."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I killed Elias. Burned him alive. And twenty years later, he came back. Not him. Something else. Something wearing his skin. It killed my husband. Killed my son. Killed everyone who helped murder my baby."

She started crying. Not loud sobs, just tears running down her weathered face. "I hear him screaming. All the time. Even when it's quiet, I hear him. He's calling for me. Asking why. Why did Mommy hurt him? Why did Mommy let him burn?"

Detective Chen stood up. She looked at me with something like pity. "She needs psychiatric care. Professional help."

"She needs to pay for what she did."

"She's paying right now. Can't you see that? She's living in her own personal hell."

I looked at Mother. Really looked at her. This broken woman who'd once been powerful and elegant. Who'd chosen ambition over love and lost everything because of it.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Get her out of this house. Get her somewhere safe. Somewhere she can get help."

"And if she doesn't want to leave?"

"Then she'll die here. And honestly, I think that's what she wants."

Mother stood up suddenly. The ritual book fell to the floor. "I'm not leaving. This is where I belong. This is where I murdered my son. This is where I should die."

"Mother, please…"

"No, Victoria. You were right to leave. You were right about everything. But I can't leave. I won't. This house holds my sins. If I leave, they'll follow me. At least here, they're contained."

The house groaned. Dust fell from the ceiling. A crack appeared in the wall, spreading like a lightning bolt.

"We need to go," Detective Chen said urgently. "Now."

But Mother walked to the window. "It's coming back. I can feel it. The entity isn't finished. It wants one more. It wants me."

"Then let's not give it the satisfaction," I said. "Come with us. Live. Make amends. Do something good with whatever time you have left."

Mother turned to me. For just a moment, I saw the woman she used to be. The mother who sang me songs and held me when I cried.

"I love you, Victoria. I always have. Even when I was a monster, even when I chose everything wrong, I loved you."

"Then come with me."

She shook her head. "Some debts can only be paid one way."

The floor beneath her feet cracked. She fell through before either of us could reach her.