“I know.”

“You’re not in trouble.”

“I know.”

I looked down at the watch.

“You can keep it.”

That caught him off guard.

“Really?”

“Of course. It belongs to you.”

He took it carefully from my hand, placed it inside his dresser, and closed the drawer.

Conversation over.

When Ethan came upstairs later, I shut the bedroom door.

“You know what Dad used to say whenever I asked him anything uncomfortable?”

Ethan frowned.

“What?”

“‘It’s complicated.’”

I shook my head.

“Why Grandma stopped calling. Why he vanished for entire weekends. Why he refused to explain certain things. Always the same answer.”

“And you hated that.”

“I hated secrets.”

Then I pointed toward Leo’s dresser.

“That watch belonged to my father.”

Ethan stared at me.

“What?”

“Daniel’s watch.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure.”

“How?”

“Because I scratched it when I was nine.”

Ethan blinked.

“You scratched your dad’s watch?”

“That is not the important part.”

“It’s slightly important.”

“Ethan.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

I crossed my arms.

“He wore that watch for years.”

Ethan thought for a moment.

“Maybe your mom donated it after he died.”

That was the obvious explanation.

For about fifteen minutes, I desperately wanted it to be true.

But Mom had never been good at giving away Dad’s belongings.

So after dinner, I called her.

“Mom, weird question.”

“That usually means an expensive question.”

“Do you remember Dad’s silver watch?”