My Father Faked His Death Today

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Ever since Mom's affair, Dad had started doing something strange. Every single day, he would sprinkle a handful of flour inside her underwear.

His face would go paper-white as he muttered under his breath, Now it's clean. Now I can see everything clearly.

Mom would just stand by the edge of the bed, her head bowed low, letting him do whatever he wanted.

When she finally stepped out of the bedroom and caught me looking up at her with worried eyes, she would offer a gentle, weary smile.

"Sweetheart, Daddys just a little sick. We're just playing a game."

But today, Mom had to go out of town on a business trip.

While she was packing her suitcase, she secretly pulled out that flour-dusted pair of underwear and swapped it for a clean one.

The moment Dad saw it, he completely lost his mind.

He lunged forward, grabbing her suitcase, his voice rising to a sharp, hysterical shriek. "Why did you change it? Are you going to see that divorced lobby host from your office again?! Even with the flour, you still want to throw yourself at him? Aren't you afraid of rotting down there?!"

Mom was pulled off balance, stumbling. She finally shoved him away with all her strength.

"Im going to Pinecrest Springs to meet a client! How am I supposed to wear that in public?! Can you stop being so damn paranoid every single second of the day?!"

Dad stumbled backward, colliding heavily with the wardrobe. Instantly, tears spilled over his eyelashes.

"If you weren't so desperately starved that you'd sleep with a piece of human garbage who already has a kid, do you think Id be paranoid?"

Mom's face flushed a deep, angry crimson.

"At least Seans daughter is his own flesh and blood from his marriage! Its not like you, dragging a rapists bastard into my life and expecting me to clean up your mess! If I were picky, I never would have married you in the first place!"

Outside the window, a sudden crack of thunder shook the house.

Dad froze, his outstretched hand slowly dropping to his side.

I shrank deeper into the corner of the sofa, tears silently tracking down my face.

I knew, right then, that Dad had finally broken.

The moment those words left her mouth, Mom's expression shifted.

She rushed over and clamped her warm palms over my ears, her voice laced with sudden panic and regret.

"Lucy, don't listen to that. Mommy was just out of her mind with anger. I was talking nonsense."

Her hands were hot against my ears, creating a muffled hum like I was underwater.

But I didn't feel anything. I just stared at Dad through the gaps of her fingers.

Dad stood there, completely still.

He didn't scream. He didn't make a scene. He simply crouched down, picked up the discarded underwear, folded it with meticulous care, and placed it gently into the laundry hamper.

Then, he picked up Moms train ticket from the coffee table and stared at it for a very long time.

Pinecrest Springs.

When those words registered in my mind, a loud buzzing filled my ears.

Suddenly, the memories came rushing back.

Pinecrest Springs was the very first place I had ever seen the man Mom was sleeping with.

It was on Dad's birthday. He had taken me to Pinecrest Springs to celebrate.

We had changed into our swimsuits and were heading to the hot springs. As we passed the locker rooms, Dad suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

His eyes were locked on two pieces of clothing hanging on the door of an adjacent private dressing room.

A woman's blouse and a mans suit jacket.

I recognized the blouseit was Moms.

I knew it because of the gold brooch pinned to the collar, a birthday gift Dad had saved up to buy her.

From inside the dressing room came low, ragged gasps. A man and a woman, making noises like two wild beasts tearing each other apart.

Dads face drained of all color.

I didn't understand what was happening. Hearing Mom sound like she was in so much pain, I thought someone was hurting her.

So, I charged forward, threw the door open, and screamed, "Don't hurt my mommy!"

But inside, there was only a naked man. He scrambled past me in a panicked rush, fleeing into the hallway.

And Mom, sitting on the bench inside, looked like a ghost.

That day, Dad cried for hours.

When Mom finally came home later, she dismissed it with cold impatience, telling Dad he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

I remember her saying, "Back then, when that woman kept you chained up for three days and three nights, I was still willing to marry you. What is so hard for you to stomach now?"

That night, Dad held me close as we slept.

His tears fell continuously, soaking into my hair, cold and wet.

I thought he was asleep, but his lips were moving, whispering fragmented, broken words.

I caught pieces of it: not mine, rapist, bastard.

I didn't fully grasp what those words meant back then, but I knew one thing: I probably wasn't Mom's daughter.

So, Mom, you don't need to cover my ears.

I've known for a long time.

A warm drop of water splashed onto the back of my hand.

I looked up. It was Dads tear.

Seeing the look on Dads face, Mom must have felt a prick of guilt.

She grabbed her phone, stepped out onto the balcony, and lowered her voice to make a call.

"Hey, Megan, can you cover my trip today? Something came up at home... What? Hes already there?"

Through the glass door, I could hear a man's muffled crying coming from the receiver.

Even through the phone, it sounded high-pitched and pathetic.

Mom's expression instantly changed. She barked, "I'm on my way," and hung up.

She stormed back into the bedroom, grabbed her suitcase, and headed straight for the front door.

But this time, Dad didn't run after her.

He only knelt down and gently wiped the tear from the back of my hand.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. Daddy really wanted to try. I wanted so badly to give you a real family."

He looked up at me, his eyes terribly red.

"But Daddy is just so tired. I don't think I can keep going."

Mom didn't come home that night.

Instead, my body betrayed me, and I came down with a raging fever.

Dad stayed by my side all night, constantly changing the cool washcloth on my forehead and measuring my temperature.

I heard him making phone callslikely to Mom. The phone rang and rang, but no one ever picked up.

By morning, the fever still hadn't broken.

Dad scooped me up onto his back and rushed me to the hospital.

I clung to him, my eyelids feeling as heavy as lead weights.

In my hazy, feverish state, I heard a man's voice very close by.

"Gently, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer. It'll be over soon."

The voice sounded familiar.

I forced my eyes open. Through the blur, I saw three people standing outside the neighboring examination room.

Mom.

Sean.

And a girl, about half a head taller than me, holding up a bandaged finger and whimpering dramatically.

Mom didn't see us.

She was leaning over, signing some paperwork.

The nurse called out, "Who is here for Kylie Reynolds?"

Mom looked up, her voice quiet but distinct: "I'm her mother."

At that moment, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I woke up completely.

As Mom turned around, her eyes collided with mine.

She froze.

Dad froze, too, his arms tightening around me.

Sean was the first to react.

A practiced smile plastered across his face, and he hurried over, his voice dripping with nervous urgency. "Hey, man, please don't misinterpret this. The kid had a tantrum last night and ran out. We spent the whole night looking for her. She cut her finger, so we came to get it looked at. I'm new to this area and didn't know where to go, so I had no choice but to call Evelyn for help."

But Dad didn't even look at him. He gently set me down on my feet and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. "Lucy, does it still hurt?"

Before I could answer, someone lunged forward and shoved me hard.

I went flying, my forehead slamming violently against the plastic armrest of the hallway chairs. The pain was so sharp my vision went black.

Dad let out a panicked cry, wrapping his arms around me as he whirled around.

The girl stood behind me, her eyes red, pointing a finger at me as she screamed.

"You little bastard! You shameless thief! Stop trying to steal my mommy!"

Sean shrieked, lunging forward to grab the girls arm.

The next second, he raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

Once, twice, three times. The slaps were loud and sharp, echoing down the corridor.

Everyone in the hallway turned to stare.

He sobbed as he kept slapping himself, his tears smudging whatever dignity he had left.

"Its all my fault! Its all my fault! Don't listen to her, she's just a child, she doesn't know what she's sayingshe probably picked it up from TV! I promise I'll discipline her when we get home!"

Dad never looked at him.

He carefully examined my forehead, and only after ensuring the skin wasn't broken did he stand up.

His gaze cut past Sean, landing squarely on Mom. His eyes were as still and empty as a stagnant pool of dark water.

Mom shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her brow furrowing.

"Alright, stop looking at me like that. We ran into each other, thats all. Is this dramatic display really necessary?"

Mom opened her mouth to say more, but suddenly she swayed, her knees buckling as she began to collapse.

Sean was fast, catching her in his arms and rushing her into the adjacent examination room.

The hallway fell quiet.

The girl stood there, completely abandoned.

She glanced at me, then at the examination room door, her lip trembling before she turned and ran in after them.

I stood alone in the hallway. I hadn't realized Dad had let go of my hand.

I looked up and saw him leaning heavily against the wall, his eyes closed.

"Daddy?"

He opened his eyes, looked down at me, and gently stroked my hair.

"Let's go home, Lucy."

"Aren't we getting my medicine?"

"No."

He took my hand and led me toward the exit.

As we passed the examination room, I heard the doctor's voice drift out: "Congratulations, Ms. Crawford. You're pregnant. Its been almost three months. The fainting was just due to emotional stress. You need to rest."

My mind flashed back.

The day we ran into Mom in the dressing room was exactly three months ago.

Dads grip on my hand tightened.

I looked up at his profile, but his face remained completely serene.

When Mom's eyes met his through the open door, Dad spoke only two words, his voice flat and empty:

"Congratulations."

Then, he turned and led me away.

"David!" Mom screamed from behind us.

Dads footsteps never faltered.

On the drive home, Dad didn't say a single word.

When night fell, Mom finally came back.

When she walked into the living room, Dad was sitting quietly on the sofa.

She sat down opposite him, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn.

"David, we need to talk."

Dad didn't speak.

Mom sighed, her voice softening into a gentle, coaxing tone she might use on a stubborn child. "I want to keep Sean's baby."

She paused, glancing toward me, then back at Dad.

"You know the state of your own body... After what happened back then, you were damaged so badly. The doctors said you could never get me pregnant again. The child Im carrying right now is my only chance to have a baby of my own. Its not that I don't care about you, but you can't be this selfish, right?"

I stood by the bedroom door, watching Dad.

His back was perfectly straight, his hands resting on his knees, his knuckles turning a stark, bloodless white.

"Once the baby is born safe and sound, I'll find a way to send Sean and his daughter abroad. They won't interfere with our lives anymore. Youll still be Mr. Crawford, Lucy will still be my daughter, and nothing has to change."

As she spoke, there was a faint, hopeful spark in her eyes.

She looked as though she believed she was making a massive sacrifice, as though Dad ought to be drowning in gratitude.

Dad suddenly let out a soft, breathy laugh.

"Okay."

Mom blinked, clearly not expecting him to agree so easily.

"You... you agree?"

Dad lowered his gaze, his voice incredibly calm. "Yes. Take care of yourself."

A relieved smile broke across Mom's face, the heavy tension leaving her shoulders.

She stood up, walked over, and patted my head. "Be a good girl, Lucy. Mommy has to step out for a bit, but I'll be right back."

I didn't say anything. I just watched her silhouette disappear through the front door.

Once she was gone, Dad looked away from the empty doorway. He leaned down and pulled a document from the drawer. It was a divorce agreement.

He beckoned to me.

"Lucy, come here."

I walked over and stood before him.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of my head, gently swaying me back and forth.

"What if Daddy took you to live somewhere else? Somewhere far away. Would you like that?"

I nodded.

That night, for the first time in a very long time, we slept peacefully.

The next morning, Dad had our bags packed and was ready to take me to the airport.

But the moment he opened the front door, he was met face-to-face with Mom.

Her face was contorted with pure, unbridled rage. Before Dad could even react, she threw her hand back and slapped him hard across the face.

"David, how can you be so vicious?! Sean is already in fragile health, and you hired people to assault him?!"

Dad was completely stunned.

He cupped his smarting cheek, blood slow-dripping from the corner of his lip.

"What are you screaming about? When did I ever hire anyone to touch him?"

But Mom didn't listen. She grabbed my arm and dragged both Dad and me out of the apartment.

I stumbled blindly behind her, my knee slamming violently against the doorframe, a sharp burst of pain shooting through my leg.

At the hospital.

Inside Sean's hospital room.

The moment the door opened, a thick, metallic smell of copper and sweat hit my nose.

Sean was half-reclined on the bed, his hair a tangled mess, his face slick with tears.

His shirt was torn in several places, exposing skin covered in angry purple and blue bruises.

Seeing Dad, Sean shrank back in terror, letting out a piercing shriek.

"Stay away! Don't let him near me! Don't touch me! You animals!"

Mom stopped in her tracks, her words hissed through clenched teeth.

"David, just because you can't father a child yourself, you can't bear to let anyone else have one? Do you have any idea what your petty, sick jealousy has done to Sean? Hes severely injured!"

Sean sobbed harder, his shoulders shaking violently.

There was a dark, dried patch of blood staining his bedsheets, turning a grim, rusty black.

Mom's voice grew louder, her eyes shot through with broken red veins.

She, too, had miscarried on the way here because of the extreme emotional upheaval.

"What did he do wrong? What did the baby do wrong?"

"Did you think that if you dragged Sean down into the dirt, you wouldn't feel so filthy anymore? You wanted him to be just like you?"

She stared at Dad, her words dropping like heavy, frozen stones. "David, looking at you right now makes me want to vomit."

Dads lips trembled.

He shook his head desperately, tears finally spilling over.

"I didn't... I didn't do this..."

"Still lying!"

Mom waved her hand, and the heavy door was pushed open.

Several people were shoved into the room.

Three women, their faces bruised and swollen, one of them bleeding from the corner of her eye.

They cowered on the floor, terrified to look up.

Mom demanded coldly, "You said a man paid you to drug and assault Sean. Is this him?"

The woman at the front looked up, quickly nodding.

"Yes! Its him! He told us the guy was a cheap, divorced home-wrecker who would run away and wouldn't dare call the cops!"

The other two nodded in unison.

The movement was so perfectly synchronized it felt rehearsed.

Dad's face went completely pale.

I tore myself from Moms grip, throwing my small body in front of Dad, tears blinding me.

"Daddy was with me the whole night! He never went out! You're lying! You're all bad people!"

But Mom's expression only darkened further.

"David, you've even taught Lucy how to lie for you. I see I need to teach you a lesson you'll actually remember."

She gestured with her chin toward the bruised women. "Take him to the empty room next door. Whatever you did to Sean, do the exact same thing to him."

A loud ringing filled my ears.

Mom added, her voice chillingly casual:

"Its not like its his first time anyway. Hes got experience."

The women stood up, moving toward Dad.

Dad seemed to lose the last shred of his spirit. He shoved me back out of harm's way, screaming, "Lucy, close your eyes! Don't look!"

But for the first time in my life, I didn't obey.

I watched their hands claw at Dads arms, dragging him out into the corridor.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

I chased after them, but Mom grabbed me by my collar, hoisting me up like a helpless, squirming animal.

The door to the adjoining room slammed shut.

I dropped to my knees outside the door, crying hysterically, pounding against the wood until my knuckles bled.

"Please! Please don't touch my daddy!"

There was no sound from inside.

I turned back to find Mom.

She was standing at the far end of the corridor, her back to me.

Sean had somehow limped out of his room and was clinging to her.

Mom's arms were wrapped gently around his waist.

The next second, a dull, heavy thud echoed from inside the roomthe sound of something massive striking the concrete below.

Then, the air was sliced by a chorus of panicked screams.

The door to the adjoining room burst open from the inside.

One of the women stumbled out, her clothes disheveled, her voice pitching into a terrified shriek:

"He's dead! The man jumped out the window!!"