“I’m not joking,” he replied.
I shook my head. “We were at the hospital. I was there. The doctors—”
“The doctors reported what they were told,” Andrew interrupted. “But your father… he found something. Before he died.”
My pulse quickened.
“What kind of ‘something’?”
Andrew hesitated.
And in that hesitation, I saw fear.
Real fear.
“Financial records,” he said finally. “Hidden accounts. Transfers that didn’t make sense. He thought someone was using his business to move money.”
My father had owned a small logistics company. Nothing massive—but stable. Honest.
Or so I thought.
“You’re lying,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
“I wish I was,” Andrew said quietly.
“Then why didn’t he tell me?” I asked.
“He tried,” Andrew replied. “But he didn’t trust that your phone wasn’t being monitored.”
That sent a chill through me.
“What?”
“He thought someone close was involved,” Andrew continued. “Someone with access.”
I stared at him.
“You mean you.”
He shook his head immediately. “No. Not me.”
“Convenient,” I said.
“I know how it looks,” he admitted. “But listen to me—he came to me three days before he died. Gave me his phone. Told me if anything happened to him… I should get you somewhere safe.”
I felt like the ground beneath me had shifted.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I whispered.
“He didn’t want to scare you,” Andrew said. “And honestly… I didn’t believe him at first. I thought it was paranoia.”
“And now?” I asked.
Andrew gestured around the cemetery.
“Now I’m not so sure.”
Silence settled between us.
My mind raced, trying to piece together something—anything—that made this logical.
“You expect me to believe,” I said slowly, “that my father was involved in something dangerous, died mysteriously, and instead of telling me, you decided to fake a message from him and run around like a ghost in a graveyard?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds insane,” he admitted.
“It is insane,” I snapped.
Andrew stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“I wasn’t on a trip with my mistress,” he said.
I laughed bitterly. “Really? Because I have proof—”
“I needed her cover,” he cut in.
I blinked.
“What?”
“She works in cyber security,” he said. “I needed someone who could help me access the phone without triggering anything.”
My head spun.
“So you cheated on me for… tech support?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I used the situation to make it look like I left you. So no one would connect me to you tonight.”
My anger faltered, replaced by something far more dangerous:
Uncertainty.
“Why go through all this?” I asked.
Andrew looked me straight in the eyes.
“Because your father was right.”
The words landed heavy.
“He wasn’t sick the way they said,” Andrew continued. “His records—there were inconsistencies. Medications that didn’t match his condition. Timing that doesn’t line up.”
I felt my breath shorten.
“You’re saying… he was killed?”
“I’m saying,” Andrew replied carefully, “that someone made sure he didn’t live long enough to talk.”
The world seemed to tilt.
I looked at the grave behind me.
Fresh soil.
Fresh loss.
And now—
Doubt.
My hands trembled.
“Why bring me here?” I asked.
Andrew nodded toward the phone.
“Check the last video.”
I hesitated.
Then, slowly, I unlocked it.
My father’s familiar background filled the screen—a photo of me and him from years ago.
My chest tightened.
I opened the gallery.
Scrolled.
And there it was.
A video recorded just hours before his death.
My fingers hovered.
Then I pressed play.
The screen flickered.
And my father appeared.
Weaker than I remembered.
Paler.
But unmistakably him.
“Melissa,” he said, his voice strained but clear. “If you’re seeing this… it means I didn’t make it.”
Tears blurred my vision instantly.
“I didn’t want to involve you,” he continued. “But I don’t have a choice anymore.”
He coughed.
Then leaned closer to the camera.
“There are people watching the company. Not just competitors. Something bigger. I tried to pull out. That’s when things started going wrong.”
I covered my mouth, shaking.
“If anything happens to me,” he said, “trust no one… except—”
The video cut abruptly.
Static.
Silence.
I stared at the screen.
“That’s it?” I whispered.
Andrew nodded grimly.
“It got cut off,” he said. “We think someone interrupted him.”
I looked up at him, my heart pounding.
“Except who?” I asked.
Andrew didn’t answer.
Because in that moment—
We both realized something.
If my father had meant Andrew…
He would have said his name.
A cold realization settled over us.
“He didn’t finish the sentence,” I said slowly.
Andrew nodded.
“Which means,” I continued, “we don’t know who he trusted.”
A sound echoed in the distance.
Footsteps.
Not ours.
We both froze.
This time, neither of us moved.
Because now—
We understood.
We weren’t alone.
And whoever had been watching my father…
Might have just found us too.
