Chapter 38: When the Silence Break

"Freeze!"

The word sliced through the air like a thunderclap.

In the grand, marble-clad hall of the Connor estate, time seemed to shatter. Flashlights blazed. Heavy boots stormed the polished floors. The gleam of badges and drawn weapons shimmered in every direction as federal agents and local authorities swarmed the room.

Mildred Connor stood frozen beside the ornate fireplace, a hand half-raised in protest. Her lips parted, a denial forming, but no sound escaped.

Gregory took one step back, eyes narrowing, fists clenched—but it was too late.

"Hands where we can see them!" an agent barked.

From the center of the room, William didn't move.

He was on his knees, cradling Archie in his arms, the boy limp and warm against his chest. The shot had come fast, tearing through the night like lightning. The noise was still ringing in his ears.

William's hands were soaked in blood—not his own this time.

"No—no, please stay with me," he whispered, rocking back and forth. "Don't close your eyes. Please, Archie—don't you leave me."

Archie groaned faintly, his head resting against William's shoulder. He was still breathing. Barely.

"I'm here," he murmured, dazed, pain clouding his eyes. "I'm still here..."

William sobbed, forehead pressed to Archie's. "You came for me. You always come for me."

Agents surged forward. EMTs pushed through the chaos, wheeling a gurney between the bodies of security guards now handcuffed or cowering. They reached William and gently tried to lift Archie away.

William wouldn't let go.

"Sir, we need to get him to the hospital—now."

Only then did William loosen his grip, kissing Archie's forehead before finally laying him onto the stretcher.

"Don't let him out of your sight," William begged the paramedic. "Please. He's everything to me."

They nodded and wheeled Archie out into the night.

William staggered to his feet.

And then he turned.

Mildred and Gregory stood in the glow of the chandelier, now surrounded by federal agents. Their perfect world was collapsing, and the cracks were visible on their faces—rage, disbelief, and fear.

"You did this," William said, his voice breaking. "All of it. You tried to erase him from me. You locked me in a hospital. You drugged me. You tried to convince me that I imagined love."

Gregory sneered. "You were unwell. We did what we had to do."

"You destroyed me," William shouted, his voice ricocheting off the walls. "You took a boy—your own son—and broke him into pieces because he didn't fit your world."

"You were being reckless," Mildred hissed, desperation rising in her voice. "He was going to ruin everything we built. Your name—your legacy!"

"I don't care about any of that!" William yelled. "I would've traded all your money, all your legacy, everything, just to have him back. Just to remember what it felt like to be whole!"

Tears poured down his face, but he didn't wipe them away.

He took a step forward, trembling with fury.

"And Amanda? What did she do to deserve what you did to her?"

"She was interfering," Gregory snapped. "We needed time to control the narrative."

"You abducted her," William said, voice low and trembling. "You had her kidnapped and locked away."

He turned toward the agents, voice rising again. "They falsified hospital records. They bribed doctors. They suppressed evidence of a crash that nearly killed both of us. They drugged me and erased my memories. And they did it all to keep me from Archie."

One of the federal officers stepped forward, nodding solemnly. "We have all the documents. Thanks to Amanda's leaks and the testimony of hospital staff, they'll be facing charges of unlawful imprisonment, medical conspiracy, abuse of power, attempted murder, and obstruction of justice."

Gregory shouted, "This is absurd! We have lawyers—"

But the officer ignored him and gestured to his men.

"Take them."

The clink of handcuffs echoed like thunder in the room.

Mildred thrashed. "This isn't over! You think you can destroy your family and walk away?!"

William stared at her, eyes no longer clouded by fear.

"I'm not walking away," he said. "I'm freeing myself."

As his parents were led out of the mansion—Gregory silent now, Mildred screaming threats—William stood alone in the ruins of their empire. The chandeliers above flickered, casting shadows across the marble floor.

Anne came to his side. Amanda was behind her, bruised but safe, eyes shining with fierce pride.

"You did it," Amanda whispered.

"No," William said softly. "We did."

He looked toward the front door, where flashing ambulance lights strobed in the night.

"Is he..." Anne began, but William cut her off, voice ragged:

"I have to go to him."

-

The hospital waiting room was washed in sterile white light.

William sat with his hands clenched in his lap, blood still dried under his nails. He hadn't changed, hadn't spoken much since arriving. Every time a nurse passed by without stopping, his heart sank lower.

Then, finally—a doctor approached.

"He's stable," she said gently. "The bullet missed all major organs. He's unconscious, but he's strong."

William broke down.

Tears fell without resistance. His shoulders shook as he covered his mouth, sobbing freely, unashamed. Amanda placed a hand on his back. Anne leaned her head against his shoulder.

And for the first time in a long time, William let himself grieve everything they had lost—everything that had been taken.

But he also let himself hope.

Because Archie was alive.

And so was he.

The silence had finally broken.

And the truth—however painful—was free.