Chapter 155: Digging Into The Past

We started investigating. Searching for information about Thomas Crane. About my father. About the truth.

“There’s not much in public records. Thomas Crane. Born 1952. Died 1987. Car accident. That’s it.” Andres searched databases. “Nothing unusual. Nothing hidden. Normal life. Normal death.”

“Except his brakes were tampered with. Catherine said so. Someone killed him. Made it look like accident.” I remembered. “But who? Why?”

“And what does this have to do with your bloodline? With destiny? With secrets?” Sarah looked through old family photos. Looking for clues.

“Maybe we’re asking wrong questions. Maybe it’s not about how Thomas died. Maybe it’s about who he really was. What he really was.” Maya suggested.

“What do you mean what he was? He was human. Normal. Regular.” I stated the obvious.

“Was he? How do you know? Did anyone ever verify? Ever test? Ever confirm?” Maya challenged.

She had a point. I’d always assumed Thomas was human. Everyone said so. But nobody ever proved it.

“Margaret would know. She was married to him. She’d know if he was supernatural.” I called my mother. Put her on speaker.

“Mom. Was Thomas supernatural? Was my father more than human?”

Long silence. Too long.

“Mom? Answer me. Was he?”

“I don’t know.” Margaret’s voice was quiet. Uncertain. “I always assumed he was human. But there were things. Strange things. Things I couldn’t explain.”

“What things?” I pressed.

“He was too strong. Too fast. Too aware. He knew things he shouldn’t know. Sensed things he shouldn’t sense. But he never shifted. Never used magic. Never showed powers. So I thought I was imagining it.” Margaret paused. “Why are you asking?”

I told her about the photo. The message. The friend.

“Someone knows something. Something about Thomas. Something important. And they’re telling me my bloodline runs deeper. That there’s more to discover.” I explained.

“Then we find out. We exhume the body. We test. We learn the truth.” Margaret decided. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

Two days later we stood at Thomas’s grave. Permits approved. Exhumation authorized. Medical team ready.

They dug. Found the casket. Opened it.

Empty. Completely empty. No body. No bones. Nothing.

“Where’s the body? Where’s my father?” I stared at the empty casket. Shocked.

“Either it was never here. Or someone moved it. Or something else happened.” The medical examiner looked confused.

“Check the records. Check the burial. Check everything.” I demanded.

They investigated. Found irregularities. The funeral home had no record of preparing the body. The cemetery had no record of actual burial. The death certificate was filed but never properly verified.

“It’s like Thomas Crane died on paper but not in reality. Like someone faked his death. Made him disappear.” Andres compiled evidence.

“But why? Why fake death? Why disappear? Why leave me and Mom?” I couldn’t understand.

“Maybe he didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was forced. Maybe he was protecting you.” Cole suggested.

“Or maybe he was running from something. Hiding from someone. Escaping danger.” Nina offered alternative.

My phone buzzed. Text from the friend.

“You’re getting closer. Keep digging. Keep searching. Keep questioning. Thomas Crane didn’t die in 1987. He’s still alive. Still out there. Still watching. And he’s been protecting you your whole life. From shadows. From distance. From love. Want to meet him? Want the truth? Come to the old Crane family estate. Tonight. Midnight. Come alone. Or bring everyone. Doesn’t matter. He wants to see you. After thirty four years. He wants to finally meet his daughter. Properly. Truly. Completely.”

I showed everyone. Hands shaking. Heart racing.

My father was alive? Had been alive this whole time? Watching me? Protecting me? From shadows?

“It could be a trap. Could be the New Order. Could be anyone.” Nina was cautious.

“Or it could be true. Could be real. Could be my father.” I wanted to believe. Needed to believe.

“Then we go. We find out. We learn the truth.” Luna stood beside me. “I want to meet my grandfather. If he’s real. If he’s alive. If he’s there.”

That night we drove to the Crane estate. Abandoned for decades. Crumbling. Overgrown. Forgotten.

We arrived at midnight. Exactly as instructed.

The estate was dark. Empty. Silent.

Then lights turned on. All of them. Illuminating everything.

And standing on the front steps was a man. Maybe sixty. Strong. Healthy. Alive.

He looked like the photo. Older but unmistakable.

Thomas Crane. My father. Alive. Real. Here.

“Hello, Lita.” His voice. Warm. Familiar somehow. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. So long to finally meet you. My daughter. My legacy. My Luna.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

My father was alive. After thirty four years of thinking he was dead. He was alive.

And everything I thought I knew about my past. About my life. About my story.

Was wrong.