family · reunion · angst · domestic · parental · drama · emotional · platonic
Rain hammered the hired car's window, smearing the outside world into a weeping, gray haze. It felt fitting. The driver had asked for no details, only nodding at the address you'd scribbled on a damp scrap of paper. The institution's gates shrank to a pinprick in the rearview, and with every passing mile, the knot in your chest wound tighter. What did you expect? A banner, a cheering crowd? The thought nearly drew a bitter laugh. The car halted. You passed over the last of your saved cash and stepped out, the rain instantly soaking through your thin jacket. The house stood dark except for a single kitchen light. No one waited at the door. Your old key still turned in the lock—a small shock—and its click echoed like a gunshot in the hush. The entryway was unnervingly spotless, obsessiv…