When my estranged father, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed, I was torn between anger and curiosity.
His final wish was something I never expected, and what he revealed about his disappearance shattered everything I thought I knew.
I was getting ready for bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The number was unfamiliar, so I let it go to voicemail.
Not even a minute later, a text came through: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.”My heart stopped. Dad? After twenty years? I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the message.
Part of me wanted to delete it and forget, but curiosity won. I called the number back.
“Hello?” The voice was weak, barely audible.
“Dad?”
“Alice, it’s me. I… I don’t have much time.”
