A parent’s worst fear became a reality when the Wesenbergs lost their young son, Ted, one Sunday afternoon. Sadly, it happened in a place meant to be safe for their family, where nothing should have gone wrong, yet everything did.

The Wesenbergs discovered Ted floating dead in their swimming pool. His body was bobbing like a float, and Paul Wesenberg jumped into the water in an attempt to rescue him, but it was too late—neither mouth-to-mouth nor the paramedics he called could bring Ted back.

Linda Wesenberg could not handle the grief of losing her son. She sat as pale, unresponsive, and still as her deceased boy during his funeral. Over the next week, with Ted gone from their home, chaos erupted—brutal and overwhelming, to the point that little Clark couldn’t bear it…

Both Linda and Paul struggled to deal with their sorrow and argued every single day. Clark would hear loud clashes from his parents’ room every night, and his mother would grow frustrated and eventually start crying.

His father would accuse his wife of causing Ted’s death, and she would retaliate by blaming him. Clark hid under his blanket each night, clutching his teddy bear and sobbing whenever he overheard their fighting.

No grief is so deep that love cannot heal it.

When Ted was alive, things were very different. Their parents rarely argued then, and his mother was never sad or upset. She would kiss him goodnight, hug him before bed, but now she no longer did any of those things.

She had also stopped making breakfast and stayed in bed most mornings, claiming she was sick. Paul now prepared toast and eggs for breakfast, and he started coming home early to cook dinner, though his efforts did not match Linda’s caring.

Clark missed his brother terribly. He wished he could go to the place where Ted was, because he felt their parents no longer cared about Ted, who was still alive.

All they focused on was who was to blame for their other son’s death.

One evening, the situation worsened. Clark overheard another fight between his parents and, overwhelmed, he burst into their room. “Mommy! Daddy! Please stop!” he yelled. “Please! I hate it when you fight!”

“Paul, look!” his mother hissed. “I lost Ted because of you, and now Clark hates you!”

“Oh really, Linda?” Paul responded sharply. “And what about you? You think Clark worships you?”

They ignored Clark standing there and continued arguing, blaming each other again for Ted’s death. Clark decided he couldn’t stay there anymore. Their house was filled with screams and tears since Ted had gone, and Clark started to loathe the home.

“I hate you both…” he whispered, tears streaking his face. “I HATE YOU, MOMMY AND DADDY! I don’t want to live here anymore! I’m going to find Ted because only he loved me!”

Clark ran out of the room, heading straight for the front door. He paused to pick some dahlias they had grown in the garden, then headed toward Ted’s grave in the nearby cemetery.

“Look, you made him cry again. I guess you’re happy now,” Paul snapped.

“I made him cry? Stop acting like I’m the bad guy here!”

Linda and Paul kept arguing as Clark slipped away, alone to the cemetery. He knelt at his brother’s headstone, tracing the inscription with his fingertips.

“In loving memory of Ted Wesenberg,” read the engraving.

Clark burst into tears, missing his brother so badly.

I… I miss you, Ted, he sobbed. Could you please ask the angels to bring you back?

“…and Mommy and Daddy are always fighting. Ted, they don’t love me anymore. They hate me, and they don’t care. Please come back, Ted. Please? No one plays football with me, not even Dad…”

Clark had never felt so lonely. He laid the dahlias against his brother’s grave and sat on the cold grass, pouring out his heart about how ignored and forgotten he felt.

He couldn’t stop crying, telling Ted how much he missed him, how hard life was without him, and how much their parents had changed. He complained about burnt breakfasts, not growing dahlias anymore, and feeling all alone.

Clark felt peaceful after sharing everything with his brother. He didn’t notice the hours passing or the sky darkening. The cemetery emptied out, but Clark stayed because he finally felt safe and at ease there.

Suddenly, he heard the crisp sound of dry leaves behind him. Fearful, Clark looked around. Who could be in the cemetery at this hour? He stood up quickly as the noise grew louder and looked for the source.

Terrified of being alone, Clark turned to run but saw men in black robes approaching him. Their faces were hidden beneath hoods, and they carried burning torches.

“See who’s come to our dark domain! You shouldn’t have come here, boy,” one of the men shouted.

“Who… who are you?” Clark begged, tears in his eyes. “Please, let me go!”

He trembled and didn’t know how to escape. The men blocked his way.

Then a loud voice interrupted. “Chad, back off! How many times do I have to tell you not to gather in my cemetery with your cult robes?” said a tall man in his 50s as he approached.

“Don’t worry, kid,” the man said to Clark. “These boys won’t hurt you. They’re more annoying than dangerous.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Bowen!” one of the boys, pulling off his hood, sighed. “Where else can we do our cult meetings if not here in a graveyard?”

“How about you start studying instead of burning your lousy report cards here? Or I’ll tell your mother you sneak out here to smoke,” Mr. Bowen warned. Then he gestured to Clark. “Kid, come with me. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Mr. Bowen seemed kind, so Clark followed him. He was taken to a small cabin, where he was offered hot chocolate.

“What were you doing here so late?” the older man asked.

Clark opened up about his family — how they had become miserable since Ted died and how he didn’t want to go home. He explained that he missed his brother and felt abandoned by his parents.

Back at home, Linda was frantic. She tried calling Paul many times, but he didn’t answer. It had been over two hours since he left after their fight.

She sat nervously at the kitchen table, talking to a friend on the phone. When she hung up and looked around, she realized Clark was gone. Her heart raced. She checked his room and then the rest of the house, the outdoors, but he was no longer there. It was like he vanished.

She called Paul again, but he was unreachable. “Pick up, Paul,” she begged. “What do I do now?”

She paced nervously in the living room, unsure where Clark could be until she remembered him entering the room during her argument with Paul.

“The cemetery,” she thought. “He said he was going to find Ted.”

Quickly, she grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and drove to the cemetery. As she turned onto the street, she saw Paul’s car nearby. He rolled down his window.

“What are you doing here?” Paul asked.

“Clark isn’t home yet,” she said, climbing inside. “Drive to the cemetery now!”

“Wait, what? When… did he never come back?” Paul exclaimed.

“No, Paul. We were arguing so much we didn’t notice him leave,” Linda said anxiously.

They hurried to Ted’s grave, but Clark was nowhere to be seen.

“Clark!” Linda shouted. “Sweetheart, where are you?”

Then Paul pointed. “Linda! Look!” he cried.

Amid the darkness, they saw a flickering fire and heard chants. As they approached, they saw teens in black robes performing some kind of ritual.

“Dear God,” Linda gasped. “Could they have taken Clark? We lost Ted, and now—”

“Stay calm,” Paul told her. “Let’s see if they saw him.” He approached the group carefully and showed them a photo of Clark.

One of the boys smirked. “Your son showed up here at the worst possible time. He shouldn’t have come.”

Paul stared at the boys and their robes, seeing they looked like troublemakers. They had been burning what looked like grade cards.

“Seriously?” Paul said, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You’d better talk or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Whoa, whoa! I’m Chad,” one of the boys said, raising his hands. “We didn’t do anything to your boy. Mr. Bowen, the graveyard guard, took him.”

“Wait, what?” Paul asked, stunned.

Chad explained they just come to scare people and that Clark’s actually with Mr. Bowen nearby, not harmed.

When Paul and Linda reached Mr. Bowen’s cabin, they saw Clark sitting with him. They wanted to run in and hug him but froze when they overheard him talking.

They listened silently, tears in their eyes, as Clark shared his fears and regrets. Mr. Bowen assured him that his parents still loved him and told him about his own loss — how he lost his wife and child in a crash, and how every day still felt like a nightmare.

Clark nodded, understanding.

Instead of mourning what’s lost, treasure what remains.

Finally, overwhelmed with emotion, Linda and Paul burst into the cabin. Linda pulled Clark into her arms, crying tears of relief.

“Thank you,” Paul said to Mr. Bowen sincerely. “Thank you so much for saving our son.”

“It’s okay,” Mr. Bowen replied kindly. “I know what you’re going through. Just hang in there.”

Over the following months, the family healed. Their home returned to happiness. They slowly moved past Ted’s loss and began to see life in a new light.