Chapter 9: The Man Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
Nobody moved after the voicemail ended.
The world felt unreal.
Like I was trapped inside someone else’s nightmare.
My grandfather was dead.
I knew that.
Everyone knew that.
There had been a funeral.
There had been a grave.
There had been years of people saying his name in the past tense.
But now his voice was on my phone.
Talking to me.
My father slowly looked at Sarah.
“Explain.””
She couldn’t.
For the first time since I met her, Sarah had no words.
My mother sat down.
Her hands covered her face.
“He’s alive.””
The way she said it made me realize something.
She wasn’t surprised.
She was terrified.
My father looked at her.
“You knew?””
Nicole shook her head quickly.
“No.””
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?””
She stared at the floor.
“Because I thought I escaped him.””
My heart pounded.
“Mom.””
She looked at me.
“I thought he was gone.””
“But you knew he might not be?””
She didn’t answer.
My father turned away.
He looked exhausted.
“Another secret.””
Sarah finally spoke.
“I need to tell you something.””
Everyone looked at her.
She took a deep breath.
“Your grandfather didn’t die.””
Silence.
“He disappeared.””
My father frowned.
“But there was a funeral.””
Sarah nodded.
“A fake one.””
I felt dizzy.
“Why?””
She looked at my mother.
“Because he wanted everyone to believe he was gone.””
My father’s voice was low.
“Why would someone fake their death?””
Sarah looked at me.
“Because he was running from what he did.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“What did he do?””
Sarah looked away.
“He destroyed Michael.””
My mother started crying.
Sarah continued.
“Your grandfather found out Michael was planning to take Nicole away from him.””
“He hated losing control.””
She looked at me.
“He saw Michael as a threat.””
My father clenched his jaw.
“And the accident?””
Sarah nodded.
“Your grandfather was there.””
My stomach turned.
“What?””
“He followed them that night.””
Nobody spoke.
“He confronted Michael before the crash.””
My mother whispered:
“No…”
Sarah looked at her.
“You knew something was wrong.””
Nicole cried harder.
“I didn’t know.””
“You suspected.””
My mother looked away.
And that was enough.
I felt betrayed all over again.
Not because she was perfect.
But because she kept choosing silence.
Sarah reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small notebook.
“This is why he came back.””
My father took it.
“What is it?””
“Your grandfather’s journal.””
My father opened it.
The pages were old.
The handwriting was angry.
Obsessive.
He read silently.
Then his expression changed.
“What?””
He handed it to me.
I looked down.
Most of it was dates.
Names.
Notes.
But one page had my name written repeatedly.
Maya.
Maya.
Maya.
My hands shook.
The entry below was dated two months before my grandfather supposedly died.
I read:
“She is the only thing Michael left behind. If I cannot control Nicole, I will control the truth.””
I looked up.
“What does that mean?””
Nobody answered.
Then I turned the page.
There was another entry.
And this one made my blood run cold.
“Richard believes he raised her.””
My father went silent.
The next line was underlined.
“He has no idea what happened the night she was born.””
I looked at my mother.
“Mom?””
She was crying.
“I don’t know.””
But she did.
I could see it.
My father saw it too.
“Nicole.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Maya deserves the truth.””
My mother covered her face.
Then she whispered:
“The night you were born…”
Everyone waited.
Her voice broke.
“Michael wasn’t the only person there.””
My heart stopped.
“Who else was there?””
She looked at me.
“Your grandfather.””
I felt sick.
“What did he do?””
My mother closed her eyes.
“He took something from the hospital.””
My father frowned.
“What?””
She whispered:
“Your birth records.””
The room went silent.
“Why?””
My mother looked at me.
“Because he wanted to erase who you were.””
My hands went cold.
“Why?””
Nobody answered.
Then Sarah’s phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
From the same unknown number.
She read it.
Then her face changed.
“What?””
My father stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Sarah handed him the phone.
The message was short.
“He’s coming for Maya.””
I stared.
“Who?””
Nobody spoke.
Then another message arrived.
This time with a picture.
A picture of me.
Taken today.
Outside Sarah’s house.
My blood froze.
Someone had been watching us.
Someone knew where we were.
May you like
And underneath the photo was one final sentence:
“You should have left the past buried.””
