After I Died My Daughter Dialed His Number Novels & Stories

Ten years ago, I died in a shootout. My men recovered my body. I left behind only one daughter. My husband, Colton Rinaldi, found our daughter selling cigars at the docks. Under the blazing sun, she was drenched in sweat. The wooden crates had rubbed her shoulders raw and bloody. Colton's face fell. He pulled her aside. Then he demanded, beside himself with rage, "Why are you doing hard labor here? Where is your mother? How could she dump you in a place like this? "She's so damn selfish!" Mia Rinaldi had never seen him before. She stared at him, bewildered. "Who are you? Do you want a cigar? They're cheap." Colton lifted the crate off her shoulders. The veins on the backs of his hands bulged

On the day my brother and I were born, a witch predicted that my success would drive him into severe depression. She said my brother would take wolfsbane and kill himself during our awakening ceremony at eighteen. So for eighteen years, our parents did everything they could to hold me back. On the day of our awakening, my father kicked me into the dungeon once used to hold condemned prisoners. I begged them to let me attend the awakening ceremony, but my father locked the door tight. “You know awakening your wolf could push your brother to his death, and you still insist on going through with the ceremony? Are you actually trying to kill him?” As the silver poison seeped from the chains bind

When my elder sister, Melanie Grant, is 15, I inadvertently cause the death of our parents. I want to eat cake, so Mom and Dad make a U-turn halfway. Tragically, a drunk driver behind the wheel of a heavy-duty truck takes their lives on the spot. I suffer a severe blow to the head, causing my mental capacity to regress to that of a seven-year-old. Alone, Melanie buries Mom and Dad. When the orphanage offers to take me in, she holds back her tears and shakes her head. "My little brother needs me." Everyone believes she simply cannot bear to lose all her family members at once, but they assume that sooner or later, she'll remember what I've done and send me to the orphanage. Over the nex

The smell told everyone the truth. I was already dead. Some of the people around us had tears in their eyes too. The officers had no other choice. One took each of Dad’s arms and pulled him up. Because I had died alone at home, they still needed an autopsy to confirm the cause. Dad kept struggling, refusing to leave. With one hand, he reached desperately toward me. And all the while, he kept calling my name.

I will miss you, Damian. Thank you so much. God gave me you to feel how it feels like to have a father. I stopped when suddenly my phone alarm, I quickly took it out of my coat and it had a few cracks because of what it was made of earlier when I saw it my chest tightened as I remembered what day it was today. "It's my daughter's 1st death anniversary," I said in peace. After Peneil let me go home after disappearing in the hospital and Anthony take me home, I shut myself in my room and I didn't go out.

He wanted to go home and stay in that place, but his father was half dead on the floor, and it was all his fault. She dialed Liam's number and waited a few seconds until she heard Liam's voice. -Hello? -I think my father is dead and I need your help.

I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat as I fell to my knees beside him. "Dad! No, no, no," I sobbed, shaking him, hoping against hope that he would respond. But he was gone, his body already growing cold. Tears streamed down my face as I fumbled for my phone, my hands slick with his blood. I dialed Dylan's number, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "Dylan," I choked out when he answered. "It's my dad. He's dead. Someone... someone killed him." There was a brief silence on the other end before Dylan's voice came through, tense and urgent.

i said truthfully. I didn't even know whether I wanted to go to my father's funeral. I sat there for a moment my face all flushed. I remembered three years ago, when my daughter died. I remembered calling him, telling him about her death and asking him to come to the funeral. He never showed up, and he never said anything to me after that. And that was technically the last time I talked to him. I stood up and started walking aimlessly across the corridors. Should I call my mom and tell him?

Two hours after I arrived home, I heard the telecom ring out with a shrill sound. I got up from the sofa I was seated comfortably on in the sitting room and hastened my steps towards the television in the kitchen area. I was so eager to hear that my dad’s condition had improved. “Miss Alana?” "Yes, yes, this is me. How is my dad? Is he awake now?” I retorted, my feet tapping against the floor loudly and annoyingly, as I was eager to hear the caller's response. “I am so sorry, ma'am. His condition got critical; we couldn't save him. Mr. Willam is dead.”

DEATH " Please I'll do anything, just let me know where my daughter is," I said to her hoping she wouldn't end the call. I didn't recognize the voice of the lady speaking. " Listen to me carefully," She said and I nodded then realizing she couldn't see me I spoke. " Yes, I'm listening." " Don't you try any funny business, if you do, your daughter dies." I heard crying in the background as if they were trying to emphasize their point.