A Son That Never Was

Billy sat waiting inside the car, just as Ethan had told him to.His eyes scanned the area through the windshield.

Several officers from various agencies moved briskly around the scene,the air thick with tension and urgency.

It wasn't long before Ethan returned.Billy sensed it right away—

Something in his demeanor had shifted.He looked calmer, more focused… and heavier somehow.

Ethan climbed into the driver's seat and sat in silence for a few seconds.Then he turned and said,

"Looks like I've found myself a mess to clean up."

He exhaled quietly,"I think I'll take you back to my place first."

"…Unless there's somewhere else you'd rather go?"

Billy hesitated.

He was weighing the idea of going back to rest—or asking to tag along on the investigation.

"You're heading somewhere next, aren't you?"

Ethan nodded.

"Of course I am.There's no time to waste now... The killer's feeling emboldened."

Billy found himself intrigued.

"Where to first?" he asked.

"The house of the fifth victim."

Billy paused, then spoke quietly.

"Then… can I come with you?"

Ethan turned, visibly surprised by the question.

"The place I'm heading isn't exactly a movie theater, Silas…"

"This isn't some detective film we're starring in."

He said it sincerely, but with a light touch of humor.

Billy gave it some thought."Don't worry… I won't get in the way."

Ethan studied him for a moment, his eyes softening slightly.

He let out a slow breath."Fine. You can come."

"But on one condition."

"You follow my instructions. No questions. Got it?"

Billy nodded without hesitation."Yes, sir."

Ethan started the engine and slowly pulled away from the scene.

As they drove toward the Calloway estate, silence settled in the car—until Billy broke it.

"The house of the fifth victim… That was Ezra Calloway's, wasn't it?"

Ethan glanced over, his expression briefly startled.

"Yeah. How'd you know that? From the news?"

Billy shook his head slightly."Not exactly."

"He was kind of a legend at my school.The looks. The charm."

Ethan grew more attentive.

"Anything else you know about him?"

Billy furrowed his brow, trying to recall something Jenna and Miles had once said.

"…There was one more thing."

"His fingers. I think… I think he had six fingers on his left hand."

He paused, then shook his head.

"That's all I know."

Ethan didn't respond.He just sat quietly, calculating.

Ezra Calloway.The fifth victim.

A teenager from a wealthy family, with parents in pharmaceuticals.

By all appearances, his life was perfect—handsome, privileged, gifted, well-connected.

At the time of his disappearance, most believed it to be a kidnapping for ransom.

But the case had taken a strange turn.

There were no ransom notes. No calls. No threats. Nothing.

Stranger still—No one had seen anything.No witnesses. No CCTV. No signs of struggle.

But the most unsettling part… was his parents.

They didn't seem frightened. Or panicked.

They didn't go to the media.They didn't beg the public for help.

Instead, they remained… eerily calm.

Eventually, the car arrived at the Calloway estate.

A grand gate stood at the front, and the mansion loomed beyond it—imposing and elegant.

Ethan stepped out, scanning the front entrance.

Billy followed, eyes wide at the size of the place.

"Do you think they'll let us in?" he asked quietly.

Ethan looked at Billy, then turned to the intercom.

"They will. I made an appointment."

He pressed the buzzer and leaned toward the mic.

"This is Detective Ethan Freeman."

"I'm here to meet with Mr. Calloway, as scheduled."

There was a moment of silence.

Then a voice came through—female, older, and guarded.

"…Us?"

Ethan glanced at Billy, paused a beat, then answered.

"Yes… I'm here with…"

"…my intern."

The gate clicked open.

The two exchanged a glance and walked inside.

The grounds were large, meticulously maintained.But oddly—there were no gardeners, no housekeepers, no one in sight.

Only the crunch of gravel under their feet echoed in the still air.

Halfway to the house, a voice called out behind them.

"Well good afternoon, dearies."

They stopped and turned.

An elderly woman stood just off the path—they hadn't seen her approach.

She was in her late sixties or early seventies,with wild white hair and a deeply wrinkled smile.

Ethan gave a polite nod."Good afternoon, ma'am."

The old woman tilted her head slightly.

"Come to see Mr. Calloway, have you?"

"Yes. I'm the detective he scheduled."

"Ohhhh… a detectivvvve," she said, stretching the word.

She looked them both up and down, then lingered on Billy.

"You're both so young… especially you, sweetheart."

Her smile widened, almost grotesquely.

"You look like a kitten."

"He likes them young like you…"

"Tell me, dear… Do you eat cats?"

Billy felt a chill shoot down his spine.

Ethan froze, clearly thrown off."Excuse me?"

The woman giggled, the sound raspy.

"Well then—have a lovely day, detective… and little kitten."

She turned and walked off, vanishing as mysteriously as she had appeared.

The two stood there, unnerved.

Moments later, they entered the mansion.

The interior was grand—luxurious, tasteful.But cold. Soulless.

No sounds. No smell of cooking.Not even a speck of dust.

From the staircase above, footsteps echoed.

"You must be Mr. Freeman."

A man descended—elegant and deliberate.

A middle-aged gentleman in a tailored suit.Golden hair, sharp features, and eyes that gave nothing away.

He stopped at the bottom, extended a hand.

"Lucius J. Calloway."

"A pleasure to meet you."

Ethan shook it.

"Ethan Freeman. Thank you for having me."

Lucius's gaze drifted to Billy.

"And this would be…"

"He's my intern. Silas Bill Granger."

"…An intern," Lucius repeated softly."You look awfully young."

Billy gave a small nod.

Lucius turned back to Ethan."You're here about… that."

"Please, follow me. The parlor is to the left. I had it prepared."

He led them through the vast hall, silent as a tomb.

The house looked flawless—too flawless.As if no one had lived in it for a very long time.

At the parlor door, Lucius opened it.

A pot of tea and a plate of cookies waited on the center table.

"Please, sit wherever you like."

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be to you…"

He took a seat across from them, his eyes unreadable.

Ethan and Billy sat down.Ethan rested a file on his lap and spoke calmly.

"First of all, I'm sorry for your son's disappearance."

Lucius said nothing.Didn't nod. Didn't flinch.

Just stared. Blankly.

Ethan continued.

"Do you remember anything unusual on the day he went missing?"

Lucius sighed."I'm afraid not.Nothing seemed out of the ordinary."

"Nothing?" Ethan asked softly.

"Not a thing," Lucius replied flatly.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"I didn't."

"…Didn't see him?"

"My son rarely stayed home," Lucius replied coldly.

"He had… his own place, let's say."

"Do you know where he was staying?"

"No idea."

Billy began to feel it too—Something was very wrong.

The tension in the room turned heavy.Thick.

Ethan sensed it as well.

The man sitting across from him was not cooperating.Not even trying.

Ethan drew a long breath and straightened his posture.

"I'm sorry if this comes off as disrespectful…"

He paused.

"But why… didn't you seem to do anything when he went missing?"

Lucius went still.

The air seemed to freeze.

He stared down at his own hands for a moment,then looked up again.

"…I simply… didn't want to look for him."

Ethan blinked.

"…What do you mean?"

Lucius turned to the window, thoughtful.

"Sometimes… when something leaves…you let it."

He turned back.

"Some things just… were never what we wanted them to be."

Billy frowned, clearly confused.

"You mean… Ezra?"

Lucius smiled faintly.

"Ezra…" he repeated, as if the name were foreign.

"Yes, he was an interesting boy."

"Bright. Charming. Talented. Social."

He spoke like describing a stranger.

Ethan leaned forward.

"He was your son, wasn't he?"

Lucius didn't respond right away.

He sipped his tea, then said softly,

"This house had many people in it, Mr. Freeman."

"But that doesn't mean… we were a family."

Ethan exhaled silently.He wasn't going to get a straight answer.

So he asked plainly,

"Mr. Calloway… would you mind if I took a look at his room?"

"There might be something that can help me understand."

Lucius fell quiet.

He stared at Ethan for a long while—measuring him.

"What is it you expect to find in a boy's room, Mr. Freeman?" he asked calmly.

Then leaned back, his voice distant.

"Understanding someone…doesn't come from what they left behind."

"…It comes from what they erased."

Ethan frowned.

"Being a father is like being God of a tiny universe," Lucius said suddenly.

"You give life. You make the rules.You decide what that world looks like."

Ethan remained silent.Billy shifted slightly.

Lucius gave a soft chuckle.

"But sometimes…the child you build isn't what you hoped."

"It's like carving a statue, only to find a crack in the stone."

"What would you do, Mr. Freeman?"

Ethan hesitated.

Lucius answered himself.

"I polish it. Rework it.Until it becomes what I wanted it to be."

Ethan didn't know what to say.

He didn't even fully understand what was being said.

"You're talking about your son… aren't you?"

Lucius smiled faintly.

"I'm talking about… what I once wished could be my son."

Billy's breath caught.

Ethan said nothing. He was deep in thought.

"You may go see the room if you'd like, Mr. Freeman."

"But I'll leave you with this…"

"Don't assume every child grows up innocent."

He stood silently.

Then turned and walked toward the staircase—each step deliberate,each one heavier than the last.

Ethan and Billy followed close behind.

And somewhere in Ethan's mind…one name repeated itself.

Ezra.