Chapter 3: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
The name on Marcus’s phone screen stayed in my mind long after he walked away.
My father.
Thomas Vale.
Dead for twelve years.
Yet somehow, someone had just called Marcus using his name.
I stood in the doorway, watching my uncle disappear into the darkness beyond the gates.
For the first time in my life, I wondered if the person I had mourned was actually gone.
Or if I had been mourning a lie.
“Adrian.””
My mother’s voice pulled me back.
I turned around.
She was still sitting on the couch, her hands wrapped tightly around the blanket.
She looked exhausted.
Terrified.
But there was something else in her eyes.
Recognition.
“You know something,” I said.
She didn’t answer.
“Mom.””
She looked down.
“I knew this day would come.””
My stomach tightened.
“You knew?””
“Yes.””
“How long?””
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered:
“Since the night your father disappeared.””
I froze.
Not died.
Disappeared.
The word felt wrong.
Impossible.
“You told me he died.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because that was what I was told.””
“You’re saying you don’t know if my father died?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
The room suddenly felt too small.
I walked away from her, running a hand through my hair.
My entire life was built on facts.
Numbers.
Contracts.
Evidence.
I had built a billion-dollar company because I believed every problem had a solution if you had enough information.
But now the foundation beneath my entire existence was missing pieces.
“What happened that night?””
My mother stared at the fireplace.
“It was raining.””
Her voice became distant.
“Your father received a call around midnight. He looked worried.””
“From who?””
“I don’t know.””
“You didn’t ask?””
“I did.””
She swallowed.
“He told me it was business.””
I almost laughed.
“My father was never afraid of business.””
“No.””
Her eyes moved to mine.
“But he was afraid that someone inside his own company was trying to destroy him.””
The same sentence Selena had hinted at.
The same fear Marcus carried.
I sat across from my mother.
“Tell me everything.””
She nodded slowly.
“Your father left the house around one in the morning. He said he would be back within an hour.””
“And?””
“He never returned.””
My chest tightened.
“What about the accident?””
She looked away.
“The police found a car.””
“His car?””
“Yes.””
“But not him?””
Another silence.
“No.””
The room went completely quiet.
I felt like I was hearing my own heartbeat.
“They found the car near a bridge,” she continued.
“There was damage. Blood.””
My face changed.
“Blood?””
“Yes.””
“His blood?””
“I don’t know.””
“You don’t know?””
Her voice broke.
“Adrian, those days were chaos. Marcus was everywhere. The lawyers were everywhere. Everyone kept telling me the same thing.””
“What?””
“That your father was gone.””
I stood.
“And you believed them?””
She looked at me.
“I was a woman who had just lost the man she loved.””
Her voice trembled.
“I wanted to believe he was alive. But after months passed…”
She couldn’t finish.
I understood.
Hope had a limit.
“What changed?””
My mother looked toward the hallway.
“Three years ago.””
I frowned.
“Three years ago?””
She nodded.
“I received a letter.””
“What kind of letter?””
“No return address.””
She stood slowly and walked toward an old wooden cabinet.
From inside, she pulled out a small envelope.
The paper was yellowed.
She handed it to me.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
Five words.
*Don’t trust Marcus. I’m alive.*
My fingers went cold.
The handwriting.
I knew it.
I had seen it on birthday cards.
On notes left beside my breakfast.
On the first check my father signed when I joined the company.
It was his handwriting.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
My mother looked ashamed.
“Because I didn’t know if it was real.””
“You thought someone was pretending to be him?””
“Yes.””
“Then why keep it?””
She touched the paper.
“Because some part of me believed.””
I stared at the letter.
A thousand questions rushed through my mind.
Why would my father fake his death?
Why would he leave us?
Why would he hide for twelve years?
And why would he come back now?
My phone suddenly rang.
I looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Again.
My mother immediately stepped back.
“Don’t answer.””
I ignored her.
I pressed the button.
“Hello?””
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then a voice spoke.
A voice I had forgotten.
A voice I had spent years wishing I could hear again.
“Adrian.””
My knees almost gave out.
Because I knew that voice.
I knew it before the next word.
“Dad?””
My mother covered her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes.
The voice on the phone breathed heavily.
“Don’t say my name.””
I couldn’t move.
“Where are you?””
“Listen carefully.””
His voice was older.
Tired.
But it was him.
“You are in danger.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Who are you running from?””
A pause.
Then:
“Everyone you think you can trust.””
I looked at my mother.
I looked at the door where Marcus had left.
I thought about Selena.
“Why did you leave us?””
The silence afterward hurt more than anything.
Finally, he answered.
“Because staying would have gotten you killed.””
My eyes burned.
“You let me believe you were dead.””
“I know.””
“You let Mom suffer.””
“I know.””
“Do you have any idea what that did to us?””
His breathing changed.
Like he was fighting emotion.
“I thought about you every day.””
“Then why didn’t you come back?””
Another pause.
“Because someone inside your company was watching.””
I looked toward the windows.
Every shadow outside suddenly felt like a person.
“Who?””
“I can’t tell you over the phone.””
“Dad—”
“Adrian, you need to leave that house.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Right now.””
“Why?””
His voice lowered.
“Because the person who tried to kill your mother knows I contacted you.””
My blood turned cold.
“How?””
A sound came from the hallway.
A small noise.
Like someone stepping on the wooden floor.
I turned.
Nobody was there.
“Dad?””
His voice became urgent.
“Adrian, listen to me.””
The line crackled.
“Your mother has been protecting a secret for twelve years.””
I looked at my mother.
She looked terrified.
“What secret?””
My father whispered:
“The night I disappeared, I wasn’t running away from Marcus.””
The phone signal weakened.
“I was running away from…”
“Dad?””
Static.
Then silence.
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
My mother slowly sat down.
“What did he say?””
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because there was something else I had noticed.
Something impossible.
Something that made my skin crawl.
The call had not come from an unknown number.
The screen had changed before it disconnected.
The number was hidden.
But beneath it was a location.
A location my phone recognized.
A location I knew better than any place in the world.
My childhood home.
The old Vale estate.
The house my father supposedly abandoned twelve years ago.
The house that had been empty ever since his disappearance.
I grabbed my keys.
My mother stood.
“Where are you going?””
I looked at her.
“To find my father.””
She grabbed my arm.
“No, Adrian.””
Her voice shook.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
She stared at me.
And for the first time, I saw pure fear.
“Because if Thomas is really alive…”
She whispered:
“Then the person who made him disappear is still alive too.””
Before I could respond, every light in the mansion went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Then my phone received one final message.
A photo.
I opened it.
And my heart stopped.
It was a picture taken only seconds earlier.
A picture of me standing in the living room.
Taken from inside my own house.
May you like
Below it were six words:
*I told you not to come home.*
