Chapter 3: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nobody moved.
The television continued playing in the background, its cheerful music sounding almost insulting in the silence.
I looked at my father.
Then at Vanessa.
"Who is Michael?""
Neither answered immediately.
Dad slowly sat down.
For the first time that evening, he looked less angry than confused.
"Vanessa," he said, "tell me exactly what you mean.""
She rubbed her forehead.
"I didn't know what else to do.""
"Who is Michael?""
"Michael Reeves.""
Dad stared at her.
"Your first husband?""
She nodded.
I remembered Vanessa mentioning that she had been married before. She had never spoken about her former husband in detail, except to say that he had abandoned her and Mia when Mia was little.
I had assumed he had moved away.
Apparently, the story was much worse.
Dad leaned forward.
"Michael died in a car accident in 2020.""
"I know what the records say.""
"Then why are you sending him money?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
"Because he contacted me.""
Dad went silent.
I felt a chill move down my arms.
"Contacted you from where?"" I asked.
Vanessa looked at me.
"That's none of your business.""
Dad's voice cut through the room.
"Emily has already lost her savings because of your decisions. Everything involving this money is her business now.""
Vanessa looked down.
"He called me in September.""
Dad rubbed his jaw.
"From what number?""
"An unknown number.""
"And you believed it was him?""
"He knew things only Michael would know.""
"What things?""
Vanessa hesitated.
"He knew about the apartment we lived in before Mia was born. He knew about my mother's necklace. He knew things about our marriage.""
Dad shook his head.
"That doesn't prove anything.""
"He said he had been in trouble. He said he'd spent years trying to get his life back together.""
"And you sent him money?""
"At first, only a little.""
Dad opened his phone again.
"How much?""
Vanessa didn't answer.
"How much, Vanessa?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"About six thousand dollars.""
Dad's eyebrows rose.
"Six thousand?""
"He promised to repay me.""
"From where did you get six thousand dollars?""
She looked at him.
"From the household account.""
Dad closed his eyes.
I remembered the new furniture Vanessa had ordered in October. The designer handbag. The weekend Mia had spent at an expensive shopping center with her friends.
Had all of that been paid for with money she had taken from Dad?
Or had she been sending everything to someone else?
Dad stood again.
"Show me the messages.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Daniel—"
"Show me.""
"I deleted some of them.""
"Then show me what's left.""
She reached for her phone with trembling fingers.
For several seconds, she scrolled through her messages.
Then she stopped.
Dad held out his hand.
She hesitated before giving him the phone.
He read the conversation.
I watched his face carefully.
At first, he looked skeptical.
Then increasingly disturbed.
Finally, he handed the phone to me.
"Emily, look at the last message.""
I took it.
The conversation was with a contact saved as Michael.
The latest message read:
I need the money tonight. The people I'm dealing with are getting impatient. If you don't send it, they'll make sure Mia and I never see each other again.
My heart started pounding.
Below it was another message.
Use Daniel's business account. He won't notice until it's too late.
I looked up.
"Dad...""
He took the phone from me.
"Vanessa, did he tell you to steal from my company?""
She immediately shook her head.
"He didn't say steal. He said borrow.""
Dad laughed once, bitterly.
"That's the same thing when you don't have permission.""
"He said it was temporary!""
"Did you know where the money was going?""
"Not exactly.""
"Then why did you keep sending it?""
Vanessa's face crumpled.
"Because he threatened me.""
The room went quiet again.
Dad looked at her.
"What kind of threats?""
Vanessa sat down heavily.
"He said if I stopped helping him, he'd tell Mia the truth.""
"What truth?""
She covered her face.
I glanced toward the staircase.
Mia was upstairs, probably still using the laptop purchased with my savings.
Dad lowered his voice.
"Vanessa, what does Michael know about Mia?""
Vanessa shook her head.
"I can't.""
"You can.""
She looked at him through her fingers.
"He said he was coming back.""
Dad's expression tightened.
"Coming back where?""
"To Texas.""
"When?""
"Tomorrow.""
I felt my stomach twist.
Tomorrow?
The dead man was apparently coming to Texas tomorrow?
Dad immediately pulled out his phone and called Robert again.
"Robert, I need the bank's fraud department on the line. I also need our attorney contacted first thing in the morning.""
He paused.
"Yes. This is bigger than the original transfers.""
Vanessa stood.
"Daniel, please. Don't involve lawyers.""
Dad turned toward her.
"You've transferred company money to an unknown account, taken your stepdaughter's savings, and concealed it from me. What exactly do you expect me to do?""
"I made a mistake.""
"One mistake?""
He opened his phone and showed her the transfer history.
"These transactions happened over six weeks.""
She began crying.
"I was scared.""
"Then you should have come to me.""
"You never listen!""
"I would have listened if you'd told me someone was threatening you!""
Vanessa shook her head.
"You don't understand what Michael is capable of.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Then tell me.""
She looked toward the stairs again.
I followed her gaze.
"Mia?"" I asked.
Vanessa nodded slowly.
"He's her father.""
Dad exhaled.
"I know that.""
"No. You don't understand. He told me he wanted to see her.""
"After six years?""
"He said he was ready to be a father again.""
I frowned.
"How can someone who died six years ago come back?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with fresh tears.
"Because he didn't die.""
My father stopped breathing for a moment.
I stared at her.
"What?""
Vanessa looked directly at him.
"Michael faked his death.""
The words seemed to drain the warmth from the room.
Dad slowly sat down.
"Are you telling me the death certificate was fake?""
"I don't know how he did it. I only know he's alive.""
"Did you verify his identity?""
"Yes.""
"How?""
"He sent me a video.""
"Did you meet him?""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Not yet.""
Dad looked exhausted.
"Then you sent nearly sixty thousand dollars to a man you haven't physically seen in years.""
"He promised he was coming back.""
"That's not an answer.""
I stepped closer.
"Did he know about my account?""
Vanessa looked away.
That was answer enough.
"Did he tell you to take my college money?""
She remained silent.
"Vanessa?""
Finally, she whispered, "He said it would be easier if I used an account with your name because nobody would question the withdrawals immediately.""
I felt sick.
She hadn't simply decided to take my money.
Someone had suggested it.
And she had agreed.
Dad took a long breath.
"Did Michael know about my corporate reserve account?""
Vanessa nodded.
"How?""
"He knew you kept emergency funds there. He said the money could be replaced before you noticed.""
Dad stared at her.
"How would he know that?""
Vanessa didn't answer.
Dad's phone rang again.
This time it was Robert.
He answered on speaker.
"Tell me.""
Robert's voice sounded tense.
"Daniel, we've reviewed the transfer logs. There's something you need to know.""
"What?""
"The external account receiving the money isn't registered to Vanessa's consulting company alone.""
Dad looked at her.
"Who else is listed?""
Robert paused.
"Michael Reeves.""
Vanessa began shaking her head.
"No. That's impossible.""
Robert continued.
"There's more. The account was opened using identity documents connected to a business that was dissolved several years ago.""
Dad asked, "Which business?""
Robert gave him a name.
I watched my father's expression turn completely cold.
He knew it.
He knew the company.
And judging by the way his fingers tightened around his phone, he knew exactly why the name mattered.
"Robert," he said carefully, "don't send any more information to the household email. Preserve everything and forward it directly to our attorney.""
"Understood.""
Dad ended the call.
Vanessa was crying openly now.
"What did he say?""
Dad didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Dad, what is it?""
He looked at me.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
Finally, he spoke.
"Michael didn't choose your family at random.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Daniel, please.""
Dad ignored her.
"That company was investigated for financial fraud several years ago. It was connected to someone who tried to steal my business.""
My chest tightened.
"Who?""
Dad looked toward the staircase.
Then back at Vanessa.
"Someone who knew me before I met your stepmother.""
Before anyone could say another word, a phone began vibrating on the coffee table.
It was Vanessa's.
The screen lit up.
*MICHAEL REEVES — INCOMING VIDEO CALL.*
Vanessa backed away as if the phone were on fire.
Dad picked it up.
"Answer it," he said.
She shook her head violently.
"Don't.""
"Answer it.""
"I can't.""
Dad pressed the green button.
A man's face appeared on the screen.
He looked older than the photograph Vanessa had shown us earlier, with gray at his temples and a deep scar running along his jaw.
He glanced at the camera.
Then smiled.
"Vanessa," he said.
"Why haven't you sent the rest of the money?""
His eyes moved.
He noticed my father.
The smile disappeared.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Michael leaned closer to the camera.
"Daniel Carter," he said quietly.
Dad's face became expressionless.
"Michael Reeves.""
Michael gave a small laugh.
"I see you've finally met your wife's little financial problem.""
Dad tightened his grip on the phone.
"You're going to explain every dollar you've taken.""
Michael ignored him.
Instead, he looked directly into the camera.
At me.
"Emily, right?""
My blood ran cold.
He knew my name.
Then he smiled again.
"Your father hasn't told you what happened to your mother, has he?""
My father went completely still.
And Vanessa whispered something I could barely hear.
"Michael, don't...""
But he continued.
"Because before you blame me for stealing your college fund, sweetheart, you might want to ask Daniel why he never told you the real reason your mother disappeared.""
The call abruptly ended.
I turned toward my father.
His face had gone pale.
"Dad?""
He didn't answer.
I took one step closer.
"What did he mean about Mom?""
For the first time in my life, my father looked afraid of answering one of my questions.
Then he walked toward his briefcase, opened a hidden compartment, and pulled out an old photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a younger version of Michael Reeves.
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On the back, in handwriting I recognized as my mother's, were six words:
*If he comes back, protect Emily.*
