Chapter 8: The Funeral Lie
For four years, I carried grief like a uniform.
Every morning, I put it on.
Every mission.
Every promotion.
Every quiet night when the world finally stopped moving.
My father was gone.
That was the one fact I never questioned.
The one thing I believed was solid.
Now even that was collapsing.
I sat in my father’s hidden room with the unknown number still glowing on my phone.
*Ask your sister why Admiral Voss left your father alive.*
The sentence felt like a threat.
But it also felt like a confession.
Delphine sat across from me, staring at nothing.
The woman who had spent years fighting me was now the only person who might understand what happened.
“Tell me everything about that night,” I said.
Her eyes closed.
“I already told you most of it.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You told me pieces.””
She looked at the floor.
“That’s all I had.””
“Then give me the pieces.””
A long silence followed.
Then she nodded.
“When Dad called me, he sounded scared.””
I leaned forward.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
“Are you sure?””
She looked at me.
“I knew Dad better than anyone.””
The words were not an attack.
Just a fact.
“He wasn’t scared of illness. He wasn’t scared of dying.””
She swallowed.
“He was scared of someone finding something.””
I looked around the hidden room.
The files.
The notes.
The evidence.
“What?””
“He didn’t say.””
“Why not?””
“Because someone was listening.””
My expression changed.
“How do you know?””
“Because halfway through the call, he stopped talking.””
“What do you mean?””
“He went silent.””
She stared at the wall.
“Then he whispered, ‘I’m not alone.’”
A chill moved through me.
“What happened next?””
“He told me to come to the house.””
“You went?””
“Yes.””
“What did you see?””
She took a breath.
“When I arrived, the front door was open.””
My chest tightened.
“The door was open?””
“Yes.””
“Did you go inside?””
“I did.””
“Alone?””
She nodded.
“And Dad?””
“He was in the office.””
“Alive?””
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.””
The room went completely silent.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“My father was alive when you arrived?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did everyone say he was already having a heart attack?””
“Because that’s what happened later.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
She wiped her face.
“Dad collapsed after you arrived.””
I froze.
“You’re saying I was there?””
“No.””
She looked at me.
“You weren’t.””
The confusion on my face must have been obvious.
“Then who?””
She looked away.
“Admiral Voss.””
The name felt like a weight.
“You’re saying Voss was there before the ambulance?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because Dad never told me.””
I stood and began walking through the small room.
My mind moved through every memory I had of Voss.
Every conversation.
Every piece of advice.
Every time he told me I reminded him of my father.
I had trusted him.
Not casually.
Completely.
He had been there after my father died.
He had helped me through the funeral.
He had supported my career.
He had become family.
And now my sister was telling me he was the last person to see my father alive.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?””
Delphine looked at me.
“Because Dad made me promise.””
“A promise?””
“He grabbed my hand.””
Her voice softened.
“He said, ‘If Marlo knows everything, she’ll go after the wrong person.’”
I stopped.
“What does that mean?””
“I don’t know.””
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
The impossible puzzle.
My father knew something.
He knew I would investigate.
He knew I would act.
And he believed that action could put me in danger.
A knock interrupted us.
The security officer entered.
“Commander Carter?””
“Yes?””
“We traced the unknown number.””
My attention shifted immediately.
“And?””
His expression was serious.
“It’s not registered.””
“That’s impossible.””
“Normally, yes.””
He handed me a tablet.
“The signal bounced through multiple locations.””
“How many?””
“Seven.””
“Countries?””
He nodded.
“Three.””
I looked at the screen.
“So whoever contacted us doesn’t want to be found.””
“Correct.””
Delphine stood.
“Can you trace the messages?””
The officer hesitated.
“We found something unusual.””
“What?””
“The first messages sent to your sister came from the same encrypted source.””
“And?””
He looked at me.
“The source was activated four years ago.””
My stomach tightened.
“When?””
He checked.
“Two days after your father’s funeral.””
The room went silent.
Because that meant someone had been preparing for this.
Not recently.
Not after the investigation started.
Years ago.
The officer continued.
“There’s more.””
“What?””
“The first message sent from that source was not to your sister.””
I looked at him.
“Who was it sent to?””
He turned the tablet around.
The name appeared.
My breath caught.
*Commander Marlo Carter.*
I stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.””
The officer shook his head.
“The message was never delivered.””
“Why?””
“Because the number attached to it was deactivated.””
“When?””
“Four years ago.””
“Whose number was it?””
He hesitated.
“Your father’s.””
I felt the room shift.
My father had sent me a message after his death.
Or someone had used his number.
Either way, someone had been planning this.
I took the tablet.
The message was simple.
One sentence.
*“Don’t trust the man who buries me.””*
I read it again.
Then again.
My hands went cold.
Because only one person had arranged my father’s funeral.
Only one person had stood beside me as we lowered the coffin.
Only one person had told me everything would be okay.
Admiral Thomas Voss.
“I need to see the funeral records,” I said.
The officer looked confused.
“Sir?””
“The official records.””
“Why?””
“Because I want to know who signed the final documents.””
The answer came faster than I expected.
The officer searched.
Then stopped.
His face changed.
“What?””
He looked at me.
“Commander…”
“Tell me.””
“The death certificate was amended.””
My heart sank.
“Amended how?””
“Original cause of death removed.””
I stared.
“What replaced it?””
The officer swallowed.
“Pending investigation.””
I felt anger rising.
Four years.
Four years everyone had told me my father died naturally.
Four years I had accepted it.
Four years I blamed myself for not being there.
But the paperwork never said what I was told.
Someone had changed the story.
Someone had hidden the truth.
“Who requested the amendment?””
The officer looked at the screen.
“Admiral Thomas Voss.””
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The name.
The answer I had been avoiding.
Delphine stepped closer.
“Marlo…”
I opened my eyes.
“No.””
She stopped.
I wasn’t angry at her.
Not now.
I was angry at the person who had spent four years standing beside me.
The person who had watched me mourn.
The person who knew exactly what I had lost.
A phone rang.
Not mine.
Delphine’s.
She looked down.
Her face drained.
“Who is it?””
She didn’t answer.
“Delphine.””
Slowly, she turned the screen toward me.
No name.
No number.
Just one word.
*Dad.*
Neither of us moved.
The phone kept ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally, Delphine answered.
“Hello?””
Static.
Then silence.
Then a voice.
A voice I knew.
A voice I had heard in recordings.
A voice I had heard in my dreams.
“Delphine.””
She began crying.
“Dad?””
I grabbed the phone.
“Who is this?””
The voice paused.
Then:
“Marlo.””
My entire body froze.
Because the voice was not coming from a recording.
Not from a hidden speaker.
Not from an old message.
It was live.
My father was speaking to me.
“I’m sorry.””
I couldn’t speak.
“Dad?””
A shaky breath came through the phone.
“Yes.””
Four years of grief.
Four years of questions.
Four years of believing I had lost him.
All collapsed into one impossible moment.
“Where are you?””
Silence.
Then my father answered:
“Somewhere your sister was supposed to take you.””
I looked at Delphine.
“What does that mean?””
My father’s voice became urgent.
“Marlo, listen carefully.””
The sound of movement came through the phone.
Like someone was near him.
“I don’t have much time.””
“Who are you with?””
Another pause.
Then he whispered:
“Admiral Voss.””
The call went silent.
I looked at the phone.
The line was still connected.
But my father was gone.
And then a final message appeared on Delphine’s screen.
Not from the caller.
From the same unknown source.
One sentence.
*“Now you know why I threw the bag.””*
I looked at my sister.
And for the first time, I understood.
Delphine had not been trying to destroy my investigation.
She had been trying to stop me from finding something.
May you like
Something so dangerous…
that my father had spent four years pretending to be dead.
