The boy vanished from the yard, and eight years later, his father looked under the neighbor’s doghouse and went pale…

“There’s no war. Michael pretended to be your father all these years while your real mom and dad searched for you everywhere.” Emily stepped closer, cautiously reaching out to touch Caleb’s hand.

The boy flinched at first but didn’t pull away, allowing the contact. It was as if some deeply buried memory stirred within him, responding to his mother’s touch. Paramedics approached, wrapping Caleb in a shock blanket and leading him to the ambulance.

Emily followed, unwilling to let her son out of her sight again. Thomas watched them go, his heart pounding with a mix of shock, joy, and disbelief. After eight years of searching, hoping against hope, Caleb had been right across the street all along.

The next few hours passed in a blur for Thomas. Paramedics cleaned and bandaged the cut above his eye, checked his bruised ribs, and determined nothing was broken. Physically, he’d recover quickly.

Emotionally, he was still grappling with the miraculous turn of events. In the ambulance, Caleb sat wrapped in a blanket, answering simple questions from the medics and police. His confusion was evident.

His entire world had collapsed in minutes. When Thomas approached, Caleb looked at him with a mix of wariness and curiosity. Emily sat beside their son, not touching him but close enough to offer comfort if he wanted it.

“How you feeling?” Thomas asked gently, careful not to overwhelm him. Caleb shrugged, his eyes flicking between Thomas and the officers nearby. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Everything’s not like Dad—Michael—said.” One of the officers, a kind-faced woman who introduced herself as Detective Morgan, sat across from Caleb with a notepad. “Caleb, I know this is tough, but can you tell us a little about what it was like living with Michael?

Did he ever hurt you?” Caleb shook his head. “He just trained me a lot—physical stuff, and recently, how to handle a gun.” He paused, frowning.

“He said I needed to learn to protect myself when he wasn’t around. Said the war would last a long time. Told me to hide deep in the bunker because things were getting worse outside.”

“Do you know what year it is, Caleb?” Detective Morgan asked softly. The boy hesitated. “Dad—Michael—said it didn’t matter down there.

Time works differently in a war. It’s 2017.” The detective informed him, “You went missing eight years ago.

It’s now 2025. Do you remember anything about where you lived before the bunker?” Caleb furrowed his brow, concentrating. “I don’t know.

I’ve been in the bunker as long as I can remember. Michael said it was too dangerous outside because of the war.” He glanced at the peaceful, snow-covered neighborhood.

“But there’s no war, is there?” “No,” Thomas confirmed quietly. “There’s no war. There never was.”

From the police car where Michael was being held, he could be seen watching them, his expression unreadable. Another officer approached. “We found something interesting in the bunker,” he reported.

“It’s fully stocked—food, water, medical supplies. There’s a generator, air filtration system, even educational materials. And several firearms, like the boy mentioned.”

Detective Morgan nodded. “Sounds like he was prepared for a long stay down there.” She turned to Caleb…