A mother went shopping but never returned. Fourteen years later, her family discovers the shocking reason Why…

The evening sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains of the Dawson family living room, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.

Dan Dawson, now fifty years old, adjusted his position in his wheelchair, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight. It had been fourteen years since the accident. A sudden stroke that sent him tumbling down the stairs, leaving him with a broken hip and confined to a wheelchair.

Though time had passed, the physical limitations remained a constant reminder of how dramatically his life had changed. Dad, do you want a blanket? Ellie called from the kitchen, already pulling one from the hall closet before he could answer. At nineteen she was the only one of his children who still lived at home, shouldering the responsibility of his daily care with a maturity beyond her years.

I’m fine, sweetheart, Dan replied, his voice carrying a perpetual weariness that had become part of his personality. What time did Ethan say he’d be here? Mark, Dan’s second oldest son at twenty-five, checked his phone. He said around six should be here any minute.

Mark had his father’s build, broad shoulders and the same cleft in his chin, but his temperament was more measured, practical. He worked as an accountant at a firm downtown, having put himself through college with scholarships and part-time jobs after their mother disappeared. Aldi, could you please lower the volume? Leah called from the dining room where she was setting the table.

At twenty-three she had grown into a responsible young woman who managed a local bookstore. Her shoulder-length dark hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail as she moved efficiently between the kitchen and dining room. Fifteen-year-old Aldi sprawled on the couch with the remote in hand, reluctantly turned down the sports highlights he’d been watching.

I’m just looking for a good movie for tonight, he defended himself, scrolling through streaming options. What about that new science fiction one? The one with the aliens that look like humans? No aliens, Dan said with a small smile. You know Ellie doesn’t like them.

Ellie appeared from the kitchen carrying a stack of plates. I don’t mind aliens, I just don’t like when they explode out of people’s chests while we’re eating dessert. The familiar banter filled the house with warmth, a testament to how they’d managed to forge ahead as a family despite everything.

Every weekend they gathered like this, all five children coming together for dinner, conversation and a movie. It was their ritual, their way of maintaining the connections that had kept them strong through the years of absence. The table’s ready, Leah announced, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

Five place settings with a sixth at the head of the table for Ethan, each plate perfectly aligned, glasses filled with ice water, napkins folded neatly beside forks and knives, everything in its proper place just as their mother had taught her. Something smells amazing, Mark said making his way to the dining room. Lasagne, Ellie replied proudly, and I made garlic bread too.

Aldy abandoned his movie search and joined them at the table, his gangly teenage frame folding into his usual chair. Can we start? I’m starving. Dan wheeled himself to his spot at the table, shaking his head…