Chapter 6: The Ghost Behind the Messages
My father’s words should have been impossible.
A dead man’s voice.
A message from beyond the grave.
A threat from someone who had been buried eight years ago.
But after everything I had learned in the past few hours, impossible no longer felt impossible.
It felt like the next thing waiting to destroy me.
“Papa.””
My voice barely came out.
“Are you sure?””
Thomas Brand didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough.
I already knew.
He was sure.
“I heard that voice for years,” he finally said.
“During the investigation. During the trial. During the last conversation I ever had with him.””
“His name?””
My father looked at me.
“Gerhard Brandt.””
The name felt heavier than before.
Not just Gero’s father.
Not just a criminal from an old investigation.
A man whose shadow had followed me into my own marriage.
Dr. Richter stood slowly.
“We need to understand what is happening right now.””
My father nodded.
“Yes.””
She looked at the phone.
“The message came from an unknown number?””
“Yes.””
“Could someone be pretending to be him?””
My father stared at the screen.
“That would be the logical explanation.””
“But you don’t believe that.””
He looked at her.
“No.””
The silence after that answer was frightening.
I wrapped my arms around myself.
Everything was moving too fast.
A few hours ago, my biggest fear was that Gero would come home angry.
Now I was sitting in a doctor’s office learning that my marriage might have been planned before I even met my husband.
I touched my stomach.
My baby moved.
A small reminder.
A reason to keep going.
“Anna.””
My father’s voice softened.
I looked up.
“You need to leave this place.””
“What?””
“This clinic is no longer safe.””
Dr. Richter nodded.
“He’s right.””
I looked between them.
“Where am I supposed to go?””
My father answered immediately.
“Home.””
The word made me tense.
He noticed.
“Not your house with Gero.””
I exhaled.
“My home.””
He nodded.
“My house.””
For the first time in months, the idea of a place felt safe.
Not because of walls.
Because of who was inside.
We left the clinic through the back entrance.
My father checked the parking area before we walked out.
It was something he had done my entire childhood.
I used to think it was annoying.
Now I understood.
He had never stopped being a protector.
The drive was quiet.
Too quiet.
I sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by.
Every person walking on the sidewalk looked normal.
Every car looked ordinary.
But my life no longer felt ordinary.
“Papa?””
He glanced at me.
“Yes?””
“Did you ever suspect him?””
My father tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Yes.””
The answer hurt.
“You did?””
“I suspected something was wrong.””
“When?””
“Before your wedding.””
I turned toward him.
“Then why didn’t you stop me?””
His face changed.
“I tried.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
“I confronted him.””
My heartbeat increased.
“When?””
“Two weeks before your wedding.””
The memory was new.
A piece of a story I had never heard.
“What happened?””
My father looked through the windshield.
“He came to my house.””
“Gero?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“He wanted my approval.””
That surprised me.
“He came to ask your permission?””
“No.””
My father’s expression hardened.
“He came to make sure I knew he had won.””
A chill moved through me.
“What did he say?””
My father was silent for several seconds.
Then:
“He said, ‘You took my father’s life away. I’m going to take something from you.’”
My blood went cold.
“You heard him say that?””
“Yes.””
“And you still let me marry him?””
My father looked devastated.
“I thought he was angry. I thought he was trying to scare me.””
“But he meant it.””
“Yes.””
The car became silent again.
I looked out the window.
The truth was painful in a different way.
Not the pain Gero caused.
A different kind.
The pain of realizing people had pieces of my life hidden from me.
My father.
Gero.
Everyone.
When we arrived at my father’s house, two security officers were already waiting.
I looked at him.
“Security?””
He nodded.
“I called them before leaving the clinic.””
“You expected trouble?””
“I expected Gero.””
The answer was honest.
Inside, everything looked exactly the same.
The old wooden table.
The family photographs.
The bookshelf filled with my childhood memories.
I walked past a picture of my mother.
I stopped.
She was smiling.
Young.
Happy.
I touched the frame.
“I don’t know who to trust anymore.””
My father came beside me.
“You can trust me.””
I looked at him.
“I want to.””
He nodded.
“I know.””
That was the hardest part.
Wanting to believe someone.
But being afraid.
A few hours later, after I had eaten something and rested, my father came into the room carrying a folder.
“I found something.””
I sat up.
“What?””
He placed it on the table.
“Records from after your wedding.””
I opened it.
Inside were printed emails.
Messages.
Photos.
My eyes moved across the pages.
Then I saw it.
A photograph of Gero.
Taken before we met.
He was standing outside a building.
With another person.
A person I recognized.
My stomach dropped.
“Is that…”
My father nodded.
“Yes.””
The man beside Gero was my father’s former colleague.
A man named Viktor Keller.
Someone I had met several times growing up.
Someone my father trusted.
“Why is he with Gero?””
“That is what I’ve been trying to find out.””
I looked through the documents.
Then I saw a message.
The sender name was hidden.
But the words were clear.
*The daughter is secured. Continue phase two.*
My hands shook.
“Phase two?””
My father’s face darkened.
“This was sent six months before your wedding.””
I stared at the date.
Six months.
Before I even knew Gero existed.
“What was phase one?””
My father didn’t answer.
I looked at him.
“Papa.””
He took a breath.
“Finding a way into our family.””
The room felt colder.
Then my phone vibrated.
Everyone froze.
This time, I didn’t feel panic.
I felt anger.
I picked it up.
A message from Gero.
*You’re with your father now.*
Another message.
*Good. That means I can stop pretending.*
My fingers tightened around the phone.
A third message appeared.
*You want the truth about why I married you?*
I stared at the screen.
Then another line appeared.
*Ask your father what happened the night he arrested my father.*
I looked up.
My father was already staring at me.
He knew.
“You know what he’s talking about.””
My father sat down slowly.
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
His face became heavy.
“Your mother was there.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“The night I arrested Gerhard Brandt…”
He looked at the photograph of my mother.
“…your mother was the reason he escaped.””
I couldn’t breathe.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“I know.””
“Mom helped him?””
My father shook his head.
“No.””
His voice became quieter.
“She tried to stop him.””
“Then what happened?””
My father looked at the file.
Then at me.
“Your mother discovered something.””
“What?””
His eyes met mine.
“The reason Gerhard wanted revenge against me wasn’t because of the investigation.””
I waited.
“He believed your mother had something.””
My heartbeat thundered.
“Something what?””
My father reached into the folder and pulled out a small envelope.
The paper looked old.
Worn.
Like it had been hidden for years.
“This was found after your mother died.””
I stared at it.
“Why didn’t you show me?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
He handed me the envelope.
“Of what was inside.””
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a single handwritten note.
Only one sentence.
I read it once.
Then again.
Because my mind refused to accept it.
*Thomas, if anything happens to me, tell Anna the truth: Gero did not find her by accident.*
I looked up.
My father’s face had gone pale.
The room fell silent.
Then my phone rang.
Not a message.
A call.
From Gero.
I stared at his name.
And for the first time, I answered without fear.
“Why?””
A pause.
Then his voice came.
Quiet.
Almost tired.
“Because you finally found the letter.””
I froze.
“How do you know about the letter?””
His answer was a whisper.
“Because I was the one who put it there.””
My blood turned cold.
“What?””
Then Gero said the words that changed everything.
“Anna, your mother didn’t leave that message for your father.””
May you like
A pause.
“She left it for you.””
