Chapter 6 - The Man Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
The person standing at the front door looked exactly like someone who shouldn't exist.
I couldn't move.
Nobody in the room moved.
For three years, I had been surrounded by questions about my own death.
Who created the documents?
Who approved the claim?
Who decided I should disappear?
But I never imagined the answer would be standing in front of me.
Alive.
A man I knew.
A man I had buried in my memories.
"Thomas?"
My father's voice was barely a whisper.
The man at the door looked older than I remembered.
His hair had turned almost completely gray.
His face carried years of exhaustion.
But his eyes were the same.
Cold.
Calculating.
Familiar.
Thomas Reed.
My father's former business partner.
The man who had been reported missing two years before my final mission.
The man whose disappearance had been connected to the same investigation that almost destroyed Vale Atlantic.
I stared at him.
"You died."
Thomas smiled slightly.
"So did you."
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone in that room understood the meaning behind those words.
Two people who were supposed to be gone.
Two people who had somehow returned.
I looked at my father.
"You knew."
My father didn't answer.
That was all I needed.
"You knew he was alive."
Orson Vale closed his eyes.
"Daniel..."
"No."
I stepped forward.
"I am done hearing my name followed by an excuse."
Thomas walked into the room slowly.
He didn't look like someone returning home.
He looked like someone arriving to collect something.
"I understand why you're angry."
I laughed.
"Do you?"
I pointed toward the memorial portrait.
"My family held a funeral for me."
I pointed toward my mother.
"My mother signed documents declaring me dead."
Then I looked at him.
"And now you walk through that door after everyone believed you were gone too."
My voice lowered.
"Tell me exactly what I'm supposed to understand."
Thomas looked at the portrait.
Then at my mother.
Then at my father.
"You weren't supposed to come back."
The sentence made my stomach turn.
Not because it surprised me.
Because part of me already knew.
Everyone had been waiting for my story to end.
"Who wanted me gone?"
Thomas didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked toward the table.
He picked up the insurance document.
The same document that had started everything.
"You found the money trail."
I watched him.
"Yes."
"You found the companies."
"Yes."
"You found the signature."
I looked at my mother.
"Yes."
Thomas nodded.
"Good."
I frowned.
"Good?"
"For the first time, you are finally looking in the right direction."
I hated how calm he was.
Like this was a conversation.
Like my life hadn't been destroyed.
"What does that mean?"
Thomas placed the document down.
"Your family didn't create the plan."
My father looked at him.
"Thomas."
But Thomas ignored him.
"They only carried it out."
The room became silent.
I looked at my mother.
Her face changed.
Not surprise.
Pain.
Because she knew he was telling the truth.
"Who created it?"
Thomas looked at me.
"The same person who created the system that protected them."
I waited.
"Who?"
Thomas walked closer.
"Someone who knew your mission before you were deployed."
My heart stopped for a second.
That was impossible.
Military operations were classified.
Only certain people had access.
"Someone inside?"
Thomas nodded.
"Someone with access."
"Someone in the government?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Thomas looked toward the windows.
"Daniel, you are still thinking too small."
I didn't like that answer.
"What does that mean?"
"It means this was never about the insurance money."
He pointed toward the documents.
"The three million dollars."
"The foundation."
"The companies."
"Those were distractions."
My eyes narrowed.
"Then what was the real goal?"
Thomas looked directly at me.
"Removing you from the board."
I froze.
"What board?"
Nobody answered.
Then I looked at my father.
His expression told me everything.
"Father."
He didn't speak.
"What board?"
My father slowly sat down.
"When your grandfather died, he left more than the company."
I remembered my mother's words.
A network.
"Influence."
My father nodded.
"Yes."
"What kind of influence?"
Thomas answered.
"The kind that makes powerful people nervous."
He walked toward the fireplace.
"Your grandfather kept records."
"Evidence."
"Agreements."
"Transactions."
"Names."
I looked at the photograph on my phone.
The civilian standing behind my unit.
"The shipment."
Thomas nodded.
"The shipment contained copies of those records."
"And my unit found them."
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"Why was I the only one targeted?"
Thomas became quiet.
That silence told me more than an answer.
Finally, he said:
"Because you opened the file."
"What file?"
"The one your commander wasn't supposed to show anyone."
A chill moved through me.
I remembered.
The final mission.
The abandoned warehouse.
The locked container.
The encrypted drive.
I remembered finding something.
Something that didn't make sense.
A list.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
I had reported it.
Then everything went wrong.
"We found proof."
Thomas nodded.
"You found proof that people inside the system were selling information."
My hands tightened.
"Who?"
Thomas looked at my family.
Then back at me.
"That's the problem."
"What?"
"The list had names from every side."
Military.
Government.
Business.
Even people who were supposed to protect you."
The room felt smaller.
I looked at my mother.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She started crying.
"Because they threatened Callow."
My brother looked down.
I turned.
"What?"
Callow's face collapsed.
"After you disappeared, they contacted me."
My anger returned.
"You too?"
"I was trying to find you."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because they showed me proof."
"What proof?"
Callow looked at me.
"Proof that your location was known."
I froze.
"They knew where I was?"
He nodded.
"They said if we tried to bring you home, they would finish what they started."
The words hung in the air.
I thought about every night I survived.
Every moment I waited for rescue.
Every time I wondered why nobody came.
They knew.
They always knew.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Everyone looked at me.
Unknown number.
Again.
I opened the message.
A video file.
No text.
I pressed play.
The screen showed security footage.
A room.
A table.
My mother sitting across from someone.
Someone whose face was hidden.
The timestamp appeared.
The day before my official death confirmation.
My breathing stopped.
Because I recognized the room.
It was my father's office.
The person across from my mother leaned forward.
Then the camera angle shifted.
The face became visible.
I dropped the phone.
My mother covered her mouth.
My father stood up.
Because the person in the video was someone none of us expected.
Someone who had been dead for five years.
May you like
And the video showed him saying one sentence:
"Vesta, if Daniel survives, everything falls apart."
