A New Life: Redemption of souls

Nex day

Ethan handed Sophia a wad of cash, a standard payment for her services. She smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Thanks, handsome," she said, tucking the money into her purse. "But I have to say, I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping we could...continue our fun from last night."

Ethan frowned, feeling a surge of annoyance. He had made it clear to Sophia that their arrangement was strictly professional, and he didn't appreciate her trying to blur the lines.

"I'm afraid not, Sophia," he said, his tone firm but polite. "Our business is concluded. It's time for you to go."

Sophia's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. "Fine, handsome," she said, standing up and smoothing out her dress. "But I have to say, you're missing out on a lot of fun."

Ethan just shook his head, escorting Sophia to the door. As soon as she was gone, he let out a sigh of relief. He tidied up his house, ordering food and making himself a drink.

But as he sat down to eat, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to do something. He thought about Beatrice, and how he had seen her the day before. He had been meaning to visit her family, to pay his respects and see how they were doing.

He decided to go, hoping that Beatrice would be there. As he arrived at the house, he saw her sitting on the veranda, rocking gently in a chair. She looked...fragile, her skin pale and her eyes sunken. She was rubbing her belly, a look of concentration on her face.

Ethan felt a pang of concern, wondering if Beatrice was okay. He approached her quietly, not wanting to startle her.

He noticed her eyes fixed on some distant point. She looked lost in thought, her expression a mixture of sadness and longing. But as soon as she saw him, her expression changed. Her eyes clouded over, and her face became a mask of cold indifference.

Ethan felt a pang of surprise and concern. He had been looking forward to seeing Beatrice, but now he wondered if he had made a mistake. He sat down next to her, trying to break the silence.

"Beatrice, how are you?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Beatrice didn't respond. She just kept staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Ethan tried again, thinking that maybe she hadn't heard him.

"Beatrice, is everything okay? You seem a little...distant."

This time, Beatrice responded, but her voice was cold and detached. "I'm fine, Ethan. Just tired, that's all."

Ethan nodded, trying to understand what was going on. He had seen Beatrice a few days ago, and she had seemed fine then. But now, she seemed...different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about her demeanor seemed off.

As he sat there, trying to make sense of things, he felt that Beatrice was still hurting, it hurt him to remind him she was never his and she'd always mourn her love. She was still grieving the loss of her husband, and the pain was still raw. Ethan felt a pang of sympathy and regret. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts and feelings that he had forgotten about Beatrice's pain.

He reached out and put a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. But Beatrice flinched, pulling her arm away. Ethan felt a surge of surprise and hurt. He hadn't meant to upset her.

"Beatrice, I'm sorry," he said, trying to apologize. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Beatrice looked at him, her eyes cold and hard. "I'm doing fine, Ethan. Just leave me alone, okay?"

Ethan nodded, feeling a pang of sadness and regret. He realized that he had misread the situation, that Beatrice wasn't ready to talk or connect with him. He stood up, trying to give her some space.

"I'll leave you alone, Beatrice," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of something in Beatrice's eyes. It was a flash of sadness and hurt, a glimpse of the pain that she was still carrying. Ethan felt a pang of regret and sympathy. He felt he had unknowingly hurt her.

He turned back to her, trying to apologize again. But Beatrice just shook her head, her eyes clouding over with tears.

"Just go, Ethan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just leave me alone."

Ethan stormed through the front door of his house, slamming it shut behind him. He was seething with anger and frustration, his mind racing with thoughts of Beatrice and how he had unknowingly hurt her.

As he walked through the living room, he made a fist and punched the wall, feeling a surge of satisfaction as the drywall cracked and crumbled. He punched it again and again, feeling his anger and frustration boil over.

"Why does this always happen?" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "Why does everything I care about always get taken away?"

As he stood there, his chest heaving with anger and exertion, he felt a wave of memories wash over him. He was five years old again, standing in the kitchen of his family's old house, watching as his parents prepared dinner.

"Mommy, can I help?" he asked, tugging on his mother's apron strings.

His mother smiled and handed him a wooden spoon. "Of course, sweetie. You can help stir the sauce."

Ethan's father, a tall, dark-haired man with a kind face, ruffled his hair. "You're going to be a great chef one day, kiddo."

Ethan beamed with pride, feeling happy and safe in the warmth of his family's love.

But then, the scene shifted and changed. Ethan was standing in the same kitchen, but it was different now. The walls were cracked and broken, the windows shattered. His parents were lying on the floor, their bodies still and lifeless.

Ethan's mind recoiled in horror as he remembered the sound of gunfire, the smell of smoke and blood. He had been so scared, so alone.

And then, the scene shifted again. Ethan was standing in a cold, sterile office, facing a pair of strangers who smiled and told him they were his new parents.

"We're going to take care of you, Ethan," the woman said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "We're going to give you a happy home."

But it was all a lie. Ethan's new parents were cruel and heartless, subjecting him to physical and emotional torture. They told him he was worthless, that he would never amount to anything.

Ethan's mind snapped back to the present, and he felt a wave of anger and rage wash over him. He stormed through the house, smashing and destroying everything in his path.

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the pain and the memories. He had to get out, had to escape.

Ethan burst through the front door, slamming it shut behind him. He stood on the porch, his chest heaving with anger and exertion. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get away.

As he walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk, he felt a sense of freedom and release. He was finally escaping the pain and the memories.