Every day she regrets keeping him from returning, but never enough to actually let him leave. This is not her little boy.
That place has caused too much hardship and strain on her family for Grace to ever return there. She can never love that place like she knows her son does. She can never think of it without also thinking of all the times she almost lost them to it. She did lose her husband to it, long enough that Gregor grew up too fast, without a father, and suffered. It is like a curse on her and all she loves.
It has captured her son's heart, her husband's health. Her daughter slides into place, down there, excelling in a way the surface world cannot allow her to. And her baby, her precious baby, asks begs screams to go back and she can't let them.
That place tears her family apart.
Grace can see the longing in her son's eyes. She can see him like a fading candle, a shadow cast by the setting sun. He is a little less vibrant every day, a little less there. She hates seeing him like this, but she can stand the shadow of her little boy far more than his ghost. She will never allow him to return.
(she sometimes wonders what will happen when his love for them will overpower his love for her)
She is watching the evening news. He comes home late, too late, she has worried that he wasn't coming back at all this time. She looks at him, drinking in the sight. He seems slightly more solid today, more grounded. He glances at her quickly, looks away. His eyes go to the flickering screen. He freezes. He listens for a moment, and then continues on to room.
She wonders what has caught his attention in a way nothing else has been able to for a long time. A body has been found, beaten to death, suspected mugging. The only reason this is on is because of the brutality. Every hit was aimed to kill, expertly, and several wounds were inflicted post-death. Like the killer didn't stop, didn't want to. Time of death was yesterday, in the evening.
Grace doesn't know why it pops into her head, but Gregor came home late yesterday, too, and he looked even more real then. He doesn't look ruffled, there is no sign of injury on him. He can't have--but he warred with giant rats and lived through that, didn't he? He fought the Baneshe shudders to even think itand lived. Humans are nothing to that, aren't they?
She forces these thoughts out of her head even as more pieces fall into place. Her little boy would never, ever kill without reason. Even if he did do it, he'd been attacked first, right? They said it was a mugging. It was completely provoked.
She doesn't realize that she has switched from denial to excuses.
Her little boy is not a killer.
The next night, they have found three more bodies.
Gregor comes home with blood on his clothes and a secret smile on his face.
This is not her little boy.
I had a lot of different way to continue this. Lizzie was going to be his little partner in crime, making sure (with her awesome genius) that he didn't get caught, lil' Boots was going to stare creepily at Grace and say creepy things in a creepy child-like way, in order to severely creep her out. Gregor's dad would be too tired to do anything more than give Grace little 'told you so' looks. Grace's world would slowly fall apart around her, like by holding it too tight and too close she was suffocating it....
Despite this, I actually do like Grace. I just like murderer!Gregor a little bit more. And irony. I love irony.