When my estranged father, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed, I was torn between anger and curiosity. His final wish revealed shocking truths.
I was getting ready for bed when an unfamiliar number called, followed by a text: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.” My heart stopped. Dad? After twenty years? Curiosity won, and I called back.
“Dad?”
“Alice, it’s me. I… I don’t have much time.”
“Why are you calling now?”
“I need to explain… to ask something of you. But please, don’t tell your mother.” He revealed that my grandfather paid him to disappear because he thought Dad was a failure. “I took the money to secure your future.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“I couldn’t. But I watched from a distance, saw your graduation, your volleyball games.”
I felt my world tilt. “Why didn’t Mom tell me?”
“Maybe she thought she was protecting you.”
“What do you want now?”
“I need to see you, Alice. One last time before I go.”
I decided to go. At the hospital, he looked frail. “Alice,” he whispered.
“Why did you do it, Dad?”
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