Chapter 2

"Ethan, right? Have a seat, have a seat."

As soon as we walked through the door, Dad greeted him with a smile.

Ethan sat down and set his gifts on the table, extremely polite in his manner.

Mom went into the kitchen to continue cooking while Dad started chatting with him.

"Claire mentioned you run your own company?"

"Yes, I sell security equipment. It's a small company, just getting started."

"Mainly surveillance systems and access control, supplying office buildings and residential complexes."

Dad nodded and asked, "Military background? I can tell from your posture."

Ethan smiled. "I served two years, been out for a while now."

"Which unit?"

"Northeast region, regular infantry."

I sat there listening, thinking the atmosphere was pretty good. Dad rarely showed this much warmth to a stranger.

Ethan was charming, complimenting every dish, which made Mom beam with delight.

Dad poured him a glass of whiskey. "Come on, have a drink."

"Sir, I really can't hold my liquor."

"Don't be shy. You're family now—I can't let you leave here sober, can I?"

Ethan couldn't refuse and took a sip.

Dad kept serving him food and drinks, asking questions left and right, acting like a truly dutiful future father-in-law.

I felt pretty happy about it.

Halfway through the meal, Mom said we were running low on ribs and needed to buy more, asking me to come along.

I said okay.

Once we got in the elevator, Mom was still smiling.

The moment the elevator doors closed, her expression changed completely.

"Claire."

"Tell me the truth. What does Ethan really do?"

I was stunned. "Didn't he already say? Security equipment."

"He's not just in security. Your dad just texted me."

"He said Ethan's right leg can't support his weight properly when he walks. That's clearly an old gunshot wound. What kind of man are you dating?"

I explained, "Ethan served in the military for two years. It's normal to have some old injuries."

Mom scoffed. "Two years in the military? Your dad says the calluses on that kid's left hand, between his thumb and index finger, show he's been handling guns for at least five years!"

My mind went blank.

Ethan had been my boyfriend for eight months.

He was always gentle and considerate around me, never lost his temper, never even raised his voice.

How could there be something wrong with him?

Mom pulled me out of the elevator and we stood downstairs for a moment.

"When you started dating him, did you ever see his ID?"

I thought back.

"I did. Once when he was buying train tickets, I glanced at it, but I didn't memorize the number."

"What state did his ID say he was from?"

"Wisconsin."

"Has he ever taken you back to his hometown?"

I shook my head.

"Have you met his friends?"

I shook my head again.

Mom took a deep breath.

"Alright, let's go back. Don't let him notice anything."