Chapter 6 - The House Where Time Had Stopped|
The house outside Madison didn't look like a prison.
That was what frightened me most.
It stood behind a long gravel driveway surrounded by maple trees.
White shutters framed the windows.
A small vegetable garden grew beside the porch.
There were rocking chairs.
Bird feeders.
A neat wooden sign bearing the name Willow Creek Residence.
Anyone passing by might have believed it was a peaceful assisted-living home.
But the closer we came, the more I noticed.
Security cameras near every entrance.
A keypad on the front door.
High fencing hidden behind the hedges.
And no visitors.
Not one.
A Wisconsin adult-protective-services investigator and local police officers had arrived before us.
They were speaking with the facility manager.
Adrian remained beside the car.
He hadn't spoken for almost twenty minutes.
Margaret rested one hand on his arm.
“Sweetheart?”
He looked down.
“What if he doesn't know me?”
She smiled sadly.
“Then you introduce yourself.”
He swallowed.
“What if he hates me?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“Then you listen.”
I watched Adrian close his eyes.
For a moment, he looked as frightened as any person I'd ever known.
Then a woman approached from the porch.
She wore pale blue scrubs.
Her name tag read NORA WHITFIELD — REGISTERED NURSE.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Adrian straightened.
“Yes.”
She looked toward the investigators.
“We've confirmed Daniel Moretti resides here under a different surname.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“Different surname?”
Nora nodded.
“Daniel Reed.”
Margaret made a small sound.
Adrian's expression hardened.
“Why?”
“I don't know. That was the name in the records when I started working here.”
“When was that?”
“Four years ago.”
“Have you met him?”
“Every day.”
Adrian swallowed.
“How is he?”
Nora hesitated.
“He has chronic neurological difficulties from a serious injury. Some days he remembers recent conversations. Other days he struggles.”
“Can he walk?”
“With assistance.”
“Can he speak?”
“Yes.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Relief and grief crossed his face at the same time.
Nora continued.
“He has always asked about someone named Addy.”
Margaret began crying.
Adrian looked toward the house.
“Can I see him?”
The investigator approached.
“Mr. Moretti, Daniel has agreed to meet a visitor who identifies himself as Adrian. We'll supervise the introduction and ensure he feels comfortable.”
Adrian nodded immediately.
“Whatever he needs.”
We entered the house quietly.
The hallway smelled of lavender cleaner and fresh bread.
Framed landscapes hung on the walls.
Some residents sat in a bright common room watching television.
Others read books.
Everything looked ordinary.
Except for the fact that Adrian's brother had been hidden there under another name.
Nora led us toward a small room overlooking the garden.
Then she stopped.
“Daniel gets overwhelmed when too many people enter at once. Perhaps one visitor first?”
Adrian nodded.
“Me.”
He looked toward Margaret.
She squeezed his hand.
“Go on, sweetheart.”
I stood beside her.
Adrian approached the doorway.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then gently knocked.
A man's voice answered.
“Come in.”
Adrian opened the door.
I couldn't see everything from where I stood.
Only a small part of the room.
A wooden desk.
A bookshelf.
A window overlooking the garden.
And a man sitting in a wheelchair beside the sunlight.
He had dark hair streaked with gray.
A thin scar crossed his forehead.
His face was older than the boy in the photograph.
But his eyes—
His eyes looked exactly like Adrian's.
Adrian stopped.
“Daniel?”
The man turned.
For several seconds, he stared.
Then his expression changed.
He leaned forward.
“Addy?”
Adrian covered his mouth.
Daniel's hands began trembling.
“Addy?”
His voice cracked.
“Is that really you?”
Adrian crossed the room.
Dropped to his knees beside the wheelchair.
And wrapped his arms around his brother.
Daniel began crying.
“You came.”
Adrian held him tighter.
“I'm here.”
“They said you weren't coming.”
Adrian's voice broke.
“I didn't know where you were.”
Daniel clung to him.
“I waited.”
“I know.”
“I waited so long.”
Adrian began sobbing.
From the hallway, Margaret covered her face.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Inside the room, Daniel touched Adrian's face as though trying to make certain he was real.
“You got old,” he whispered.
Adrian laughed through his tears.
“So did you.”
Daniel smiled.
Then he began crying again.
“Mom?”
The question stopped everything.
Adrian's face crumpled.
Daniel looked toward the doorway.
“Did Mom come?”
For several seconds, Adrian couldn't speak.
Then he took his brother's hands.
“Danny…”
Daniel stared.
His expression became frightened.
“Where is she?”
Adrian lowered his head.
And in that quiet room, surrounded by twenty-two years of stolen time, he had to tell his younger brother that their mother had died eight years earlier.
Daniel began crying so hard that Nora stepped forward to support him.
Adrian never released his hand.
He stayed beside him.
Through every question.
Every tear.
Every terrible realization.
And when Daniel finally looked at him and whispered, “Why didn't you find me sooner?” Adrian answered with the only truth he had.
“Because they told me you were dead.”
Daniel stared.
Then something in his expression changed.
May you like
He looked toward the window.
“They told me the same thing about you.”
Related Stories
