Chapter 10 - The Unbroken Beat
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the suburban sky in bruised shades of purple and gold.
The drum practice had ended ten minutes ago, but the lingering resonance of the cymbals still seemed to vibrate softly in the wood of the floorboards.
Mason sat on the edge of his bed upstairs, tossing a tennis ball against the wall and catching it on the rebound. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a text message from an unknown number—a brief, bitter parting shot from Janet:
*“You think you won, Mason. But men like your father always need a woman to take care of them. He’ll find someone else just like me.”*
Mason stared at the screen for a second. A year ago, a text like that would have made his stomach drop with anxiety, fearing that Janet would worm her way back into their lives and ruin everything.
Now, he just smiled, locked his phone, and tossed it onto the bed.
He walked over to his bedroom window and looked out across the quiet street. Downstairs, he could hear the faint sound of his father laughing while talking on the phone with an old college friend—a real, unforced laugh that hadn't echoed in these halls for years.
Janet was wrong. His father didn't need a warden. He didn't need someone to police his home, silence his son, or plot behind his back to steal his legacy.
They didn't need Janet at all.
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Mason pushed his bedroom window open just an inch, letting the cool evening breeze sweep into the room, carrying with it the crisp, unfiltered sound of the neighborhood coming alive. He picked up his drumsticks off the desk, gave them a light, rhythmic tap against each other in the empty air, and whispered to himself:
*“Try locking this door.”*
