Chapter 9: The Man Who Returned From The Dead
The drive took forty minutes.
Nobody spoke.
Not because we didn't have questions.
Because we had too many.
I sat in the back seat with my mother on one side and Vanessa on the other.
The two women who had shaped my entire life.
The two women I no longer knew.
Outside the window, Atlanta passed by in silence.
I kept looking at the photograph.
My father.
Alive.
Hidden.
Waiting.
Eight years.
Eight years of thinking I would never hear his voice again.
Finally, we arrived at an old farmhouse outside the city.
Daniel parked.
"He's inside.""
My heart started pounding.
I opened the door.
Then stopped.
What if he wasn't the same man?
What if eight years had changed him?
What if the truth hurt worse than the lie?
My mother stepped beside me.
"He loves you.""
I looked at her.
"You should have let me know that.""
She nodded.
"I know.""
We walked inside.
The house smelled like old wood and coffee.
A light was on in the kitchen.
Then a voice called out.
"Marcus?""
I froze.
Because I knew that voice.
Older.
Weaker.
But still his.
My father stepped into the doorway.
And the world stopped.
I don't remember moving.
I don't remember crossing the room.
I only remember holding him.
A man I buried years ago.
A man who was standing alive in front of me.
He held me tightly.
"I'm sorry.""
That was the first thing he said.
Not hello.
Not I missed you.
I'm sorry.
And somehow that hurt more.
When we finally separated, I looked at him.
"Why?""
His eyes filled with tears.
"I wanted to come back.""
"Then why didn't you?""
He looked at my mother.
Then Daniel.
Then Vanessa.
"You don't understand what happened.""
I laughed.
A painful laugh.
"You're right.""
I pointed around the room.
"I don't understand anything.""
My father looked at Vanessa.
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Fear.
"Why is she here?""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Mr. Hayes...""
My father shook his head.
"No.""
His voice became firm.
"You shouldn't have brought her.""
I stared.
"Why?""
My father looked at me.
"Because if Vanessa knows where I am, they know.""
Nobody spoke.
"Who?""
My father looked toward the window.
"Richard.""
Vanessa stepped back.
"My father is dead.""
My father shook his head.
"No.""
Everyone froze.
"What?""
My father looked directly at Vanessa.
"Your father never died.""
The room went silent.
Daniel whispered:
"What are you saying?""
My father walked toward a locked drawer.
He opened it.
Inside were files.
Photos.
Documents.
He placed one picture on the table.
A man.
Older.
Alive.
Richard Mitchell.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
"No.""
My father looked at me.
"Your bride's father has been controlling everything from the beginning.""
I looked at Vanessa.
She looked just as shocked.
"She didn't know.""
My father nodded.
"That's the dangerous part.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
He picked up another document.
"The person who betrayed me wasn't Vanessa.""
He looked at my mother.
"Wasn't even Richard.""
My mother's face went pale.
"Then who?""
My father stared at me.
"The person who arranged my disappearance.""
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Who?""
My father's eyes filled with regret.
Then he said the name.
The name nobody expected.
"The person who saved me...""
May you like
He paused.
"...was the same person who tried to have me killed.""
