MONTHS passed, and during that period Shaan became closer to the family. His cousins nicknamed him “John Wick” and took him out to the farms, where he learned to drive some of the machines; they also taught him to swim and fish. That gradually built his self-confidence, and Uncle Jarred treated him kindly and gave him the tour of the house he had requested, but Shaan saw nothing out of the ordinary in any of the four rooms.

“Where is the secret room?” he asked himself.

After four months, he felt it was time for him to go home.

He wasn’t sure if the bullies would still hurt him, so three of his cousins, tall and strong men, accompanied him home. On the way, he wondered, “Has the house waited for me?”

The house stood there exactly as he had left it, except for the tall grass in the yard. He opened the gate with trembling hands and, walking in, he hugged a pillar, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Y-you waited for me.”

His cousins looked at him, puzzled, and Shaan explained, “This house is all I have.”

They shook their heads a little with pity, and the eldest cousin handed him an envelope.

“There’s some cash in there from Aunty Maya, and whenever you need assistance, let us know.”

That touched Shaan’s heart, and he said, “Thanks so much.”

Shaan settled down comfortably after they left, relieved he didn’t have to work all day, every day like before because of his family’s financial help. The bullies didn’t come looking for him, maybe because they’d heard about the family support he now had.

“It’s amazing h-how things can change for the better,” Shaan voiced to himself.

On his eighteenth birthday, he awoke with a little extra joy in his heart, having made it to young adulthood. But that day brought a surprise that shocked him and left him heartbroken.

He was in the kitchen, about to enjoy a special meal he had ordered, when a strange car pulled up at the house.

A strange man wearing a suit stepped out. Shaan was puzzled, wondering why he was here.

“Shaan Mathura?” the man inquired.

“Y-yes.”

“I am your late mother’s lawyer, and I have some documents for you.”

In the sitting room, he listened carefully as the lawyer read the documents.

“Your mother retained me four years ago to will her inheritance to you. At eighteen, you now have access to the money from the lease of her lands through a trust fund she had set up. The balance of her inheritance you will have control of at twenty-one years old.”

“S-s-so what is h-her inheritance?”

“The family home at Leguan, two hundred acres of land and her share of her father’s wealth now all belong to you.”

That statement took Shaan’s breath away, and it took a while for him to process it. He looked at the lawyer and said in disbelief, “I-I am rich?”

The lawyer smiled and said, “Yes, you are, son.”

He then took out a bulky envelope and handed it to Shaan.

“This is for your eyes only.”

Shaan nodded and said, “Thanks,” as the lawyer took his leave, and he sat there motionless for a long while, staring at the envelope. He decided not to open the envelope until later, enjoyed his birthday lunch and a piece of cheesecake, and took a nap.

After a long bath to feel refreshed and clear his mind, he sat down and, taking a deep breath, he opened the envelope. Inside were a letter and a sketch pad.

He opened the sketch pad first and saw a horror story.

The first page depicted a young woman looking in fear at someone, with a pleading look in her eyes. Pages upon pages after were drawings showing the same woman being sexually abused, but the abuser was faceless. The scenes featured a small room with a bed and a chair with straps on both.

“W-wa-was this the room she mentioned with her dying breath?” Shaan wondered quietly, in shock.

“Who did this to her?”

He couldn’t place the room, but after looking closer at the details, he saw a mango tree through the window. In her last sketch, she depicted her escape by climbing down the tree. Shaan then realised where he had seen that mango tree, but he needed more to confirm his suspicion, so he combed back through the drawings. He saw a wristwatch on the bedside table, and he remembered whose wrist he had seen that watch on.

The realisation of what he was looking at and who his mother’s abuser was shocked Shaan so deeply that he felt suffocated and slammed the sketch pad closed as he tried to level his breathing.

He still had to read the letter, and when he could breathe more easily, he opened the letter.

“Happy 18th Birthday, son,” his mother wrote.

“I knew I wouldn’t have made it this long to tell you myself, so I retained a lawyer to deliver this to you. I know you had questions in your mind as to why I was living such a wretched life and why I couldn’t care for you the way you deserved. My innocence, my ambition, all my joys and happiness were taken away from me by an evil one. He destroyed my life and caused my mother and father to grieve themselves to death following my disappearance. I had to escape and could not return, for the fear of being imprisoned in that room again to be abused over and over was too great. I wanted to die; I wish I had died, and I ended up living a broken life with a stranger. I lost everything, and carrying the burden of fear and trauma killed me one day at a time, but in my heart, I want justice. I want my abuser to pay for what he did to me, and I want the family to know what caused me to run away, and only then will my soul rest in peace.

“If you could do that for me, son, when it’s over, please take my ashes and inter them next to my mother and father.

“I’m so sorry I could not have cared for you more, but everything I’ve inherited is now yours.

“You’re smart, I know; just be brave and be strong.

“I love you.

“– Mom.”

Shaan couldn’t cry, so deep were his pain and anger, and now he knew why she cried softly every night.

He wasn’t sure how he would approach the abuser to give his mother justice, but he knew he had to do it. With that determination, he travelled to Leguan that weekend.

He had the urn with his mother’s ashes, and after the boat docked at the wharf and he stood there waiting to be picked up by one of his cousins, he said quietly, “We are now at the island t-that was your h-h-ome.”

His cousin dropped him at the family home, saying Uncle Jarred would be home later.

“Thank you, man,” Shaan said with a little smile.

He carefully put the urn in his mother’s room and said, his voice breaking a little, “M-m-mom, you’re in your old room.”

Uncle Jarred came home soon after and clapped Shaan on the shoulder. “Congratulations, you’re now a young adult.”

“Thank you.” Shaan smiled a little, appreciatively.

“You don’t look happy about that,” Uncle Jarred observed.

“I-I’m fine,” Shaan responded. “Just t-t-tired from the past week.”

“Well, then you should have an early night.”

“Y-y-eah, I’ll do that.”

But he couldn’t sleep as his mother’s image kept flashing before his eyes.