Chapter 7: The Crossroads

The invitations came on the same day.

A dinner from the Neals. A family retreat from the Blakes.

Both planned for the same weekend. Both masked as "no pressure," but Ethan wasn't blind. The clock was ticking. Everyone was waiting for the answer he hadn't found yet.

He sat in his car for hours that night, parked between the two worlds. Kensington in the mirror. Silicon Valley on the horizon.

He could feel them pulling at him. Not out of malice. But out of desperation.

And he hated it.

---

The next evening, he went to the Neals.

Miriam had cooked a three-course meal. Jonah had printed out potential internship offers at NealTech. There were even monogrammed pens with "E. Neal" engraved on them.

They were trying too hard.

Halfway through dessert, Jonah leaned forward.

"You don't have to decide now," he said. "But if you wanted… we could start the process to restore your identity. Legal name. Birth records."

Miriam touched his hand gently. "We just want our son back."

Ethan looked at the perfectly curated family—wealth, legacy, prestige—and felt like a stranger in a museum of himself.

"I don't know if I'm that son," he said.

---

Two nights later, he joined Russell and Diana at the lakehouse.

It was quiet. Simple. Diana made grilled cheese. Russell barely spoke. No pressure. No expectations.

And yet, the silence was louder than any sales pitch.

After dinner, they sat by the fire.

Diana finally asked, "You're going to leave, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Ethan said.

Russell stared into the flames. "It was always going to end like this."

"No," Ethan said suddenly. "It didn't have to."

They looked up.

"I'm not a trophy. Not a lost heir. Not revenge or redemption," he said. "I'm just a kid who never got to choose."

His voice cracked. "And now you want me to choose for everyone."

Diana wiped her tears. "We're sorry."

Russell stood. "If walking away means you're whole again… then walk."

But Ethan didn't.

Not yet.

---

Later that night, he sent one message—to both families.

> "This isn't a game. I am not property to return or keep.

I will speak when I'm ready. Until then, please respect the time I need."

He turned off his phone and opened the window to let in the night air.

Because for the first time, he wasn't running from the truth.

He was standing in it.

---

End of Chapter 7