If needed, if it was necessary, Anson didn't mind drawing a line, keeping a distance between family and himself, carefully concealing the truth of the soul beneath the surface and continuing to play the role of Anson Wood, fitting into the act.
However, just like in The Truman Show, emotions break free from their shackles, and freedom and truth begin to take root. In the end, they all have to take that step, to embrace their own reality, because it is the only path to freedom.
So, Anson turned to Lucas.
"Luca, are you worried about losing me?"
The more brutal and bloody truth was that they had already lost him.
What stood in front of Lucas now was merely a shell, beneath which lay a different soul, a scarred, exhausted one.
What would they do if they knew this truth?
Lucas couldn't breathe. His soul slowly slipped into the abyss of darkness, consumed by despair, as all his reason and resolve were torn to shreds.
He tried to argue, to deny, to grasp onto something—but there was nothing to hold. The cold of the night seeped into his blood, spreading silently under his skin.
In the end, Lucas had no choice. He surrendered.
"Anson, stay with me..." Lucas's voice rasped, barely squeezing out the words, his voice hoarse and terrifying.
Lucas panicked. He had never felt such fear before. The nightmares from the depths of his memory gripped his ankles, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape.
This version of Lucas was something Anson had never seen before—sweat dripping from his brow, face pale, his pupils trembling in anxiety, his soul being torn apart by uncertainty and fear.
It seized Anson's breath as well.
At this moment, it was Anson who first regained his composure, because, frankly, he had no idea what was going on.
Ignorance breeds fearlessness.
"Luca, I'm here," Anson's voice gripped Lucas's soul, standing firm in the gentle night breeze.
Lucas carefully studied Anson, wiping his face hard, trying to clear his head. When he looked at Anson again, there was a hint of unease in his eyes.
"You don't remember anything?"
Anson shook his head.
Lucas froze, then slowly let out a breath, as if expelling all the tension from his chest. "Maybe forgetting is a good thing. We've been doing everything we can to make you forget, to pretend that it never happened."
Anson responded, "But it happened, didn't it?"
"Even though I don't remember, you do."
"You remember, Mom remembers, Dad remembers, and this event casts a shadow over all of you. Look at you. Maybe you're the victims. Maybe we need to talk about it."
Lucas, in pain, blurted out, "No."
"I can't let you go through that pain again. Since you've forgotten, there's no need to bring it up again. Let those memories stay buried, okay?"
Anson sighed softly.
Initially, it was about him, wanting to explore the truth. But now it seemed like only the truth could free Lucas and the others. They were silently carrying the weight, perhaps suffering even more than Anson.
For so long, he had kept his distance from them to avoid becoming more entangled. But, without realizing it, they were breaking through that barrier, truly becoming his family.
Silence spread, thick and heavy.
Then, Anson's voice quietly flowed in the night air, "But the ghosts hidden in those memories have never disappeared. They're slowly rising to the surface."
"Ignoring them doesn't mean they don't exist."
He stopped talking and fell quiet again.
Lucas buried his face in his hands, struggling in agony.
Finally, in the chaos, he found a thread of reason and held onto it tightly. He looked up at Anson, a vulnerability in his eyes he had never shown before.
"Anson, are you sure? It's a Pandora's box."
Anson shook his head. "No, Luca, I'm not sure. I can't be sure of anything because I don't know. I have no idea what's coming."
"But you're here, aren't you?"
That sentence seemed to strike Lucas. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pain and struggle that were so raw, so real.
Anson froze, confused about what he had said wrong. Wasn't that a completely normal response? What was going on with Lucas?
This time, Anson remained silent, giving Lucas space, patiently waiting. The world quieted down again.
When the silence was finally broken, it was Lucas who spoke.
"That year, you were nine."
"We heard that a big traveling carnival had come to Brooklyn. You begged Mom and Dad to take you, but they were too busy with work and refused."
"So, you came to me."
"You know how stubborn you can be when you don't want to take 'no' for an answer."
"I figured if I refused too, you might sneak off on your own. So I decided it was better if I took you—at least I could keep you safe."
"And then we snuck out together, keeping it from Mom and Dad."
The story's beginning was unexpected.
But a soft smile tugged at the corner of Anson's lips. It matched his personality, and Lucas was as familiar as ever.
Anson asked, "Was the carnival fun?"
Lucas was taken aback. "What?"
"I said, was the carnival fun?" Anson repeated.
Lucas let out a laugh. Only Anson would be curious about such details.
"It was fun."
"That was the 90s. Traveling carnivals were already becoming a thing of the past. When we could go to Disney, watch the world on TV, or play video games, the charm of those Gypsy-like carnivals faded."
"But because of that, we had never seen anything like it. Everything was new to us."
"I still remember how you clung to my hand, your eyes darting everywhere, unable to stop looking at everything. It was like Alice falling into Wonderland."
Anson nodded softly. "That sounds just like me."
Lucas chuckled. "It wasn't just you. I was just as dazzled. Everything was so vibrant and exciting that I got distracted. I let go of your hand for just a second."
The words came to an abrupt stop, and Lucas seemed to forget how to breathe.
Anson noticed.
The rest of the story didn't need asking; it was easy to predict where it was going.
"Luca, that wasn't your fault. I was just too curious," Anson tried to comfort him.
But Lucas shook his head. "No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have taken you out, thinking I could handle everything. And I shouldn't have let go of your hand. It was all my fault, and then…I lost you."
Lost? What did he mean by lost?
Like tearing off a band-aid, the truth needed to be quick and sharp.
Lucas gritted his teeth and revealed the truth in one go, "You went missing. I couldn't find you. Even the police couldn't find you. You just…disappeared."