Chapter 4The Voiceless Echo

Ethan absolutely loathed physical contact.

It wasn't because he was a cute kid who was constantly hugged and pinched by all the neighborhood moms and older girls.

Back then, I was a chubby kid. No one wanted to play with me.

Ethan was the only one who, when we played pretend, let me be the Knight.

"The Knight has to be strong, so she can protect the Princess," he had told me.

"So you're the Princess? Only a princess is as pretty as you."

Ethan's face turned bright red, and he lifted his chin with a touch of childish arrogance. "I guess that works... Fine, then you have to protect me."

We were inseparable. Our bond was so tight that his mom used to jokingly ask if I wanted to grow up and call her 'Mom' too.

And then, the beautiful, bright Ethan suddenly vanished.

The adults said he had been kidnapped.

I was there the day the police finally brought him back. I saw Ethan covered in dirt and grime, only his face wiped clean, but his eyes were completely, terrifyingly hollow.

At first, I was so happy I ran forward to grab his hand.

The absolute second I touched him, Ethan used every ounce of strength in his body to violently shove me away, screaming hysterically.

His mother's fingernails dug deep into her own palms. Her face was stark white as she whispered a quiet "I'm sorry" to me.

She said, "He scared you, didn't he? He ran into some very bad people."

"He's still trapped in a nightmare."

Shortly after that, Ethan's family moved away.

When I finally saw him again, he had completely lost his voice.

When younger kids pushed him around in the hallways, he offered absolutely zero resistance.

That was the first time I ever felt a physical ache in my chest.

Maybe it was because the memory of the vibrant, radiant Ethan was so deeply burned into my childhood that seeing him broken and pathetic was something I simply couldn't accept.

I decided to put the "Knight" armor back on.

Watching Ethan slowly heal, watching him become more and more dependent on me, gave me an intense, secret sense of pride.

But I also had my own dark, selfish motives.

I wanted Ethan to depend on me, and only me.

...

The moon broke through the heavy rain clouds, the sudden light momentarily blinding me.

Chloe was tracing the line of Ethan's throat.

Her lips were moving. She was probably teaching him how to vocalize, how to feel the vibration of his vocal cords.

I wiped away my tears, and in that exact moment, my eyes locked with Ethan's.

Our gazes collided. For the very first time, a flash of genuine panic and guilt flooded his eyes.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

I discreetly wiped the moisture from my cheeks, forcing a light, casual tone.

I probably still had some pathetic shred of hope, because my voice still carried that familiar, intimate, whining edge.

Ethan opened his mouth, preparing to sign a response.

But Chloe let out a sudden, mocking scoff. She stepped aggressively in front of him, adopting a blatantly protective stance:

"Why do you get so defensive the second anyone else gets close to Ethan?"

"Honestly, you don't even want him to have other friends, do you?"

"Do you think you're some kind of saint? If it wasn't for you, Ethan could have had a totally normal social life."

She stared at me with the most innocent, wide-eyed expression while delivering the most venomous accusations:

"The truth is, you just want to control him. You want him isolated so you're his only friend, ensuring his entire universe revolves exclusively around you. Am I wrong?"

The furious rebuttal was right on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't force my jaw to open.

I stared dead at Ethan, my vision blurring with tears of absolute, suffocating betrayal.

Just say something. Defend me.

You know that's not true.

I desperately, agonizingly needed Ethan to step forward and tell Chloe that her toxic psychological analysis was complete bullshit.

But Ethan didn't move.

His fingers moved in sharp, deliberate motions. Standing next to him, Chloe offered a smug, validating smile.

He signed:

"Maya, I want to try living... a life without you in it."

...

I stared at the diagonal sheets of rain falling outside the awning. My feet felt like blocks of ice.

I turned around and sprinted into the freezing downpour without looking back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan instinctively reach out, as if to stop me. But Chloe grabbed the hem of his jacket.

And so, after a split-second of hesitation, he chose not to follow me. Again.

In my mind, a single thought echoed. Fine.

I'm done loving him.

I didn't go to school the next day. I spiked a massive fever.

Fighting through a blinding headache, I dragged a massive cardboard box into the center of my bedroom. I threw every single photo of Ethan and me, and every single gift he had ever given me since we were kids, directly into the box.

As I was double-checking to make sure I hadn't missed anything, a text from Ethan popped up on my screen.

"Did you catch a fever from being in the rain last night?"

"We had AP Calc today. I wrote out a copy of the lecture notes for you."

I didn't reply. I just slowly flipped through the pages of a vintage desk calendar sitting on my nightstand.

Exactly four months from today was Ethan's final scheduled appointment at the speech therapy clinic.

It was also the day of our final exams.