Chapter 5
Later that night, the house was plunged into a deep, heavy stillness. In his bedroom, Leo lay awake beneath his dinosaur-patterned comforter, staring up glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. The green shorts he had worn earlier were tossed carelessly on the floor beside his desk, right next to the discarded blue "EXPLOR" shirt. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel the vice-like grip of his grandmother’s fingers digging into his flesh, and the cold, metallic scent of the grilling tongs seemed to linger in the air of his room.
Down the hallway, the light from the master bedroom spilled out onto the hardwood floor in a thin, pale strip. The low, urgent murmurs of David and Clara’s voices echoed softly through the quiet house. They had been arguing in hushed tones for over an hour, the debate shifting from legal action to family intervention, and finally, to the painful reality of Eleanor’s deteriorating mental state.
"She’s eighty-one years old, David," Clara’s voice drifted through the door, sharp and analytical. "She’s losing her grip on reality, or she’s always been a monster and we were just too blind to see it. Either way, she is a danger to herself and everyone around her."
"I know," David replied, his voice thick with exhaustion and defeat. "I’ll talk to her doctor tomorrow. We can request a wellness check, or push for an evaluation. But you know how stubborn she is. She’ll never admit she needs help."
"Then we force her hand," Clara said firmly. "I’m not waiting for her to seriously injure someone else—or worse—before we take action. Tomorrow morning, I’m calling Child Protective Services to file an official report regarding the incident. There has to be a paper trail."
David sighed, the sound heavy and resigned. "Do what you have to do, Clara. I won't stand in your way anymore."
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Inside his room, Leo pulled the blanket up higher over his chin, his heart beating a rapid, erratic rhythm against his ribs. He didn't fully understand what a wellness check or a restraining order meant, but he understood that his family was changing forever. The safe, predictable world he had known was fracturing, split down the middle by an old woman’s unyielding anger and the defensive walls his parents were now forced to build.
As the digital clock on his nightstand clicked past midnight, a sudden flash of light cut across his bedroom window. Leo sat up slightly, peering out into the moonlit yard. For a split second, he thought he saw a figure standing near the edge of the property line, half-hidden by the shadows of the oak trees, holding something long and metallic that glinted coldly in the pale moonlight. But when he blinked and looked again, there was nothing there save for the wind rustling the empty branches, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts in the quiet dark.
