Chapter 8 - The Death That Never HappenedThe flash drive contained a single video file.
No title.
No timestamp.
I opened it.
The video showed a hospital corridor.
A man in a wheelchair rolled past the camera.
My father.
Older.
Weaker.
Alive.
The date was seventeen years ago.
Five years after his supposed death.
I felt the room tilt.
“What is this?”
Michael stood behind me.
“A private facility in Kentucky.”
“Why was he there?”
“Because Teresa had him declared mentally incompetent.”
My stomach twisted.
My father had not died.
He had been imprisoned in a private facility.
The death certificate was fake.
The obituary was fake.
The funeral had been a lie.
I had spent twenty years mourning a man who had been alive.
Then I saw the next file.
A payment ledger.
Every month, money was sent to the facility.
The sender?
Teresa's company.
The recipient?
A trust account.
And the account had stopped receiving payments eleven months ago.
“Where is he now?”
Michael looked at me.
“I don't know.”
We searched the facility records.
My father had been discharged.
The signature authorizing his release belonged to Teresa.
But no one could tell us where he went.
Detective Hart launched a search.
Then came another shock.
The facility had a camera archive.
One final recording.
My father leaving.
He was not alone.
A younger version of Victor Hale walked beside him.
I watched them disappear into a black SUV.
My attorney stared at the screen.
“Victor took him.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
Michael answered.
“Because Dad knew about the trust.”
That night, Teresa called me.
“You met Michael.”
“Yes.”
She laughed.
“Your father always believed the truth would save him.”
“Where is Dad?”
Silence.
“Connor…”
“Where is my father?”
“You've been lied to.”
“By you.”
She sighed.
“Your father chose to disappear.”
“Then why did you fake his death?”
“You don't understand.”
“Explain it.”
She began crying.
For a moment, she sounded like my mother again.
Not the woman who had humiliated Amy.
Not the woman who had stolen from me.
Just my mother.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From your father.”
I froze.
“He wasn't innocent.”
“What did he do?”
“He was going to destroy the family.”
I gripped the phone.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Liar.”
She whispered:
“You will find out soon.”
The call ended.
Then my security system alerted me.
Someone was at the front gate.
I opened the camera.
A black SUV.
No license plate.
The gate opened.
The SUV entered.
Michael stepped forward.
“That's Victor.”
The vehicle stopped.
The passenger door opened.
A man was pushed onto the pavement.
Old.
Weak.
Gray-haired.
I recognized him instantly.
My father.
He looked up at the camera.
Even from a distance, I saw his eyes.
He mouthed one word.
RUN.
Then the SUV drove away.
I opened the gate.
My father couldn't stand.
I ran to him.
“Dad?”
He grabbed my wrist.
His voice was barely audible.
“Your mother knows.”
“Knows what?”
He looked past me.
Toward the house.
“She's already inside.”
I turned.
The front door was open.
We hadn't left it open.
Michael pulled a gun.
I stared at him.
“Where did you get that?”
He didn't answer.
From inside the house came a crash.
May you like
Then Amy screamed.
And I knew the game had changed forever.
