Chapter 20 — Facing the House
The house sat at the end of the street, familiar yet strange, like a memory seen through fog.
Arin stopped in front of the gate, hands in his pockets. Rain slicked streets reflected the dim light, making everything shimmer oddly.
Neel and his parents lingered behind, hesitant, giving him space.
He exhaled slowly.
"This is where it started," he said quietly.
"Where I learned how invisible I could be… and how much love I was denied."
His mother's voice shook.
"Arin… we… we want to say—"
"No," he interrupted softly but firmly.
"Not yet. I'm not here for apologies. I'm here to see it. To close it."
He walked up the steps, paused at the doorway, and pushed it open. Dust and sunlight mingled in silent testimony.
Rooms once alive with laughter felt hollow now. Memories hung in the air—sharp, bittersweet.
He stepped into his old room. The walls were bare, the bed gone. Only silence remained.
"I survived this," he whispered to the empty walls.
"And I can survive anything now."
Turning to leave, he looked back one last time.
The house was just a house.
Not a cage. Not a battlefield.
Just a place that once was.
His parents and Neel watched quietly. No words. No apologies. Just silent acknowledgment.
Arin's eyes softened, just slightly.
The past wouldn't touch him anymore—not here, not in his life.