Where is Ethan?!

Where is Ethan?!
Another day dawned and Robert wasn't feeling the same as the previous day because of his job. 
He thought of Ethan, not Alice.
But her words were in his head.
"You left us."
He never got to know him, except for that photo he found in that house among Alice's belongings before she went to retrieve her things. It was the only glimpse he had of his son, plus that room that neither of them could enter after Ethan Graham Taylor's death.
He took the keys and drove there, he wouldn't be early for work.
The lady greeted him with much surprise seeing him there now that Alice was gone and the divorce had been finalized.
"Sir, I wasn't expecting you, would you like some breakfast?"
"Just a coffee, please."
"Right away."
Robert headed to that room, and when he opened the door he saw so many things ready for his son that he started to cry. He wasn't fooling himself, he still thought that baby was a mistake, he wouldn't be a good father, which was clear even to Alice. But being there in that empty yet full room was a hard hit to his heart.
"Ethan…" his deep, broken voice uttered the name. "Ethan." He repeated over and over until it seemed to come naturally from his lips. He touched everything, imagining himself there with him, trying to do things right, Alice's laughter, his clumsiness with the baby, and of course, her patience.
A creation of the two of them, that being who understood nothing of what was happening between his parents or the problems surrounding them. Those months in which, as Alice said, he left them. He missed the whole process of his wife's first pregnancy, her growing belly, the symptoms, the baby moving, the long nights, his birth. He missed so many wonderful things, and no matter how much he wished, there was no going back, there never would be. He saw what that loss did to Alice, how deeply it affected her, how devastated she was, and he only thought of another baby, even if he didn't truly want it, but it would help save his company.
"I was worse than a monster, I was the worst. I didn't get to know my son, I was definitely worse than my father, even worse than him." He sat down, leaning against the wall, closed his eyes, feeling the sting of the tears. "How could I be worse than him?" The door opened, and the smell of coffee entered; the lady was quite distressed seeing Mr. Graham like this. "I'm fine," he said before she could speak. "The pain of loss has just hit me."
"Maybe you were just blocking it, sir. It happens. Everyone processes things differently, every way of mourning is valid, there's no pattern for grieving, crying, or coming to terms with loss, and now is when you've felt it. Often, we hide in other things so our minds don't feel the pain, as a refuge."
"I never entered this room."
"I think the lady didn't either."
"Ethan, I didn't get to know him. It's something that can't be fixed."
"I don't think you can fix it, but sometimes visiting graves can be comforting, it provides some relief for that pressure building up in your chest. Why not inquire a little more with the lady?"
Robert knew it wasn't a good idea to mention that to Alice; it would hurt her more, he knew it. But he could investigate on his own; after all, he was the father.
He drank that coffee in silence, alone in his son's room. He had thought about selling that house, but now he didn't feel like doing that.
He looked in the drawers at the neatly folded clothes, all those his son would never wear and that no longer could fit him. He returned to the empty crib, his eyes misting with tears.
He was going to investigate. If there was a grave, he wanted to visit it.
It was time.
The next stop that morning was the hospital where Alice Taylor gave birth, the very place where his son died.
He spoke to several people about the case, but one led to another and another, until he had spent several hours there, getting no answer, just being made to wait.
The last thing they told him was that he had to make an appointment to speak to the hospital director because no one else could give him information about it.
Robert had two more coffees, heading to the office of the supposed director, where he met the secretary.
"He's not in his office, you need to make an appointment to see him, he's a very busy man."
"I just want to know what they did with my son!" he exclaimed angrily, tired of them wasting his time, because that's what they were doing, making him lose the whole morning without getting anything. He took a deep breath; making a scene hadn't helped. "Give me an appointment," he asked with feigned calmness. "I want an appointment with the director. Although I still say it would be enough to look at the file to tell me what I want to know. What did they do with my son's body? You can't tell me anything, why is that? I have a right to know."
"Sir, we've told you over and over again that only the director has access to that information."
"Then give me the damn appointment!"
She typed several times on her computer, looking up at the handsome, irritated man.
Coffee didn't seem to sit well with Robert Graham.
"The only appointment I have is in three months."
"Bullshit! Do you think I'm playing? Do you think I'll wait three months for an appointment? And then what? You call me seven damn days beforehand to give me another date? I know this damn game." He moved without permission towards the director's office, while the secretary followed him quickly, trying to stop him, but failing.
"I'll call the police! We have security in the hospital! Don't enter without being authorized! I'm telling you I'll call the police!"
"Just do it for once!" he looked her up and down, then opened the door.
There was a man with abundant white hair and thick-framed glasses, seated behind his computer, oblivious to everything that had happened outside, slightly startled by the way Robert Graham opened the office door, locking it again.
The man felt a bit scared, afraid he was dealing with a mad patient or a dissatisfied family member, thirsty for some kind of revenge, proclaiming justice on his own, especially given Robert's deranged expression.
"Help!" he cried out in terror. "Help! Please help!"
"Calm down! I might look crazy, but I'm not, not too much. I'm just here for information, and it's interesting how you avoid giving it to me."
"In-Information? That's not up to me, you should talk to your doctor."
"That's what I've been saying, but you don't seem to listen." Robert sat down, and the man calmed down. The director relaxed a bit; that little panic had passed, seeing that Robert looked crazy but wasn't that much. "I want to know what happened after my son's death. Where is he? The hospital should have that information."
"Then it's your wife's data you need to request; her file will have all that information. I can help you from the system, give me your name, and I'll look up all the relevant information right now."
The director still didn't know about the Grahams and Taylors; he hadn't realized that yet, so he thought he could help Robert with this.
"Alice Taylor. She gave birth in this hospital, but our son died several hours later. I want to know what happened afterward. And by the way, the condition my son was born with, what caused his death."
"That...information...we don't have it. I'm sorry."
"What do you mean you don't have it? What are you talking about? You were supposed to have that information. What happened? What's going on with the information I'm asking for? Who has the information?" Getting tired of not knowing, he was starting to panic. Something was strange about all this.
"You see..." he stood up, giving himself time for the lie to form in his head, assuming that no one would ever come to ask anything and that Henry Taylor would take care of that. "Our system crashed that day, so we don't have the information. There's no record of it." Robert also stood up. "It's a shame for us, that's why you're not given the information; it was recorded, but it wasn't stored in our database, and not just that information, many more. We've had hundreds of complaints, and we deeply regret that incident. That's all I can tell you."
Something strange was going on; he knew it, Robert knew it wasn't normal.
He left that office before security arrived, or before he lost his patience with those liars.
He had wasted the morning and still knew nothing about what happened to Ethan, the cause of his death, or what they had done with his body.
But he would keep investigating.
He knew the Taylor family had a family mausoleum.
He would go there to investigate if his son Ethan's body was there.
He knew it could be resolved with a call, a simple question to Alice Taylor, but he didn't want to involve her in it.
It would not only take the morning for that but the whole day.