Faked his death
1195 Words
The world tilted beneath Amelia’s feet.
She could hear her own breathing—shallow, rapid—but everything else felt distant, muted, as if she were underwater. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms, grounding her.
The man standing on the porch—this man with his weathered face and searching eyes—couldn’t be real.
Because he was dead.
Because he had to be.
Lillian’s voice sliced through the thick silence. “Who the hell are you?”
The man’s expression flickered—something between regret and hesitation. Then, finally, he said, “It’s me, Lillian. It’s your father.”
A cold, bitter laugh escaped Lillian’s lips. “No. No, my father died in a car accident twenty years ago.” She turned to Amelia, her eyes wild. “This is some kind of sick joke.”
Amelia swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. “My mother—she said she saw you. That you were alive.”
The man—her father—nodded. “She wasn’t lying.”
Something in Amelia cracked.
She surged forward, her hands slamming against his chest. “Then where the hell have you been?”
Dominic caught her shoulders, steadying her, but she barely felt it.
Her father didn’t move, didn’t react to the force of her shove. He simply stood there, absorbing her anger. “I know you have questions,” he said softly. “And I will answer them. But not out here.”
Lillian scoffed. “Oh, so you think you can just show up after two decades and walk into this house like nothing happened?”
Their father exhaled, looking tired. “I never wanted to leave.”
“Then why did you?” Amelia’s voice came out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t care.
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Because I had to.”
A sound of disbelief left Lillian. “That’s bullshit.”
Amelia wanted to agree, wanted to throw him off the porch and slam the door in his face. But something in his eyes—something that looked an awful lot like pain—made her hesitate.
Their mother’s frail voice drifted from the hallway.
“Let him in.”
Amelia and Lillian both turned. Their mother stood there, clutching the doorway for support, her face pale but her expression clear.
Neither of them argued.
The living room felt smaller than Amelia remembered. Or maybe it was just that the past had suddenly taken up all the space.
Their father sat on the old couch, his hands clasped together, while their mother lay back in her recliner, watching him with an unreadable expression. Amelia sat on the edge of the armchair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Lillian stood by the fireplace, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to grab something—throw something.
Dominic lingered by the door, silent, but present.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Amelia broke the silence.
“Talk.”
Their father sighed. “I faked my death.”
Lillian let out a harsh laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you did.”
Amelia’s stomach churned. “Why?”
He looked at their mother. “Because I had to protect you.”
Their mother’s eyes flashed with something dark. “Don’t put this on me.”
Their father leaned forward, his voice lowering. “I was involved in something dangerous. And if I stayed, you all would have been in danger too.”
A cold sensation crawled up Amelia’s spine. “What do you mean, ‘dangerous’?”
Her father exhaled. “I was working with people I shouldn’t have been. I got in too deep. When I tried to get out, they came after me. The only way to keep you all safe was to disappear.”
Lillian’s voice was ice. “And you thought leaving your wife and two daughters without a word was the best solution?”
“I thought if you believed I was dead, they’d leave you alone,” he said quietly.
Amelia felt like she couldn’t breathe. “And did they?”
Silence.
Her mother closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them. “For a while.”
Lillian whipped toward her. “Wait—you knew?”
Their mother didn’t flinch. “Not at first. I believed he was dead, just like you. But after a few years… he reached out.”
Amelia’s head spun. “You knew he was alive and never told us?”
Her mother’s face remained unreadable. “I did what I had to do.”
Rage boiled in Amelia’s veins. “No. No, you don’t get to say that.” She stood up, her pulse hammering. “You let us grieve for him. You let us grow up believing we were fatherless.”
Her mother didn’t react. “You were safer that way.”
Lillian turned to their father, her voice sharp. “If you faked your death, then why the hell are you here now?”
Their father rubbed a hand over his face. “Because the people I was hiding from? They found me.”
A thick silence fell over the room.
Amelia’s skin prickled. “Are you saying—”
“They might come looking for you,” he said, his expression grim. “For all of you.”
Lillian let out a sharp breath. “Oh, fantastic. So now, after twenty years, we’re suddenly in danger because you decided to show up?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” His voice was tight. “They’re closing in. And I can’t protect you from the shadows anymore.”
A shiver ran through Amelia. She had spent her entire life believing her father was gone, that he had died. But now he was here—telling them that not only had he been alive this whole time, but that their family was in danger because of him.
Dominic finally spoke, his voice steady. “Do you know how much time we have?”
Their father looked at him, assessing. “No. But not much.”
Lillian let out a bitter laugh. “Great. So what do we do? Pack up and run?”
“No,” their father said firmly. “We stand our ground.”
Amelia’s head was spinning. “And how do we do that?”
Her father’s expression darkened. “I have a plan.”
Lillian crossed her arms. “Oh, fantastic. Because your plans have worked so well in the past.”
Amelia barely heard them arguing. Her mind was still trying to catch up, still trying to wrap itself around the impossible truth.
Her father was alive.
And now, so were his enemies.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
No matter how much she wanted to scream, to cry, to demand why he had chosen now to come back, one thing was clear:
The past wasn’t finished with them yet.
And whether she liked it or not, she was about to find out just how dangerous her father’s secrets really were.
- Writer
