I Called My Late Wife’s Number and Surprisingly Someone Picked up the Phone
After my wife Kate passed away, I found myself frequently calling her number just to hear her voice on the answering machine. It brought me comfort, a small reminder of her presence. But one night, something strange happened. The recording abruptly cut off, and I distinctly heard her say, “What are you doing? No!” before the call ended. Convinced it was Kate, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to discover, and I began my investigation.
It was a typical Sunday, and I was sitting at “Paprika,” a small café Kate and I used to frequent. The bustling sounds of people chatting and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, but I felt completely alone. This was our spot—where we spent countless weekends together over the years. Now, every corner of the café was a painful reminder of the love I’d lost.
I missed Kate terribly. Her laugh, her touch, her smile—all of it was gone. As I sat there, I dialed her number again, desperate to hear her voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Kate…” Her cheerful voice gave me both comfort and heartbreak.
Her death still felt unreal. Just days ago, we held her funeral. It was a cold, gray day that seemed to reflect the emptiness I felt. Kate had died in a tragic accident when her car plunged into a canyon. The doctors couldn’t save her. “She’s gone,” they had said. The weight of those words crushed me, but at least I had Kate’s twin sister Amanda and her husband Kyle for support.
Amanda, who was confined to a wheelchair and had her own health struggles, had been a rock for me. “We’ll get through this together, Peter,” she’d told me. Kyle, too, had been a source of comfort, offering his support as we all grieved the loss of Kate.
Lost in thought at the café, I didn’t notice someone approaching me until I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was Carmen, a distant relative of Kate’s, who I had only met briefly at our wedding. She didn’t know about Kate’s death.
When I told her what had happened, she was shocked. “That’s why she hasn’t answered my calls,” she said. Carmen went on to explain that she’d been calling an old family number at their country house, where only Kate’s answering machine picked up.
“Kate’s voice is still on the machine?” I asked. Carmen confirmed it and gave me the number.
Later, curious to hear that message, I called the number. Sure enough, Kate’s familiar voice greeted me, and I couldn’t help but smile. But on the third call, something happened that stopped me cold. Someone picked up, and I heard Kate’s voice, clear as day: “What are you doing? NO!” Then the line went dead.
Shaken, I shared the incident with Amanda. She tried to reassure me, suggesting it was my grief playing tricks, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I asked her for the address of the family country house and decided to investigate for myself.
The drive to the old house was tense, my thoughts spiraling. When I arrived, the place looked abandoned, but something about it felt off. Inside, the air was thick with dust, but I noticed two clean glasses with fresh water droplets on them and footprints in the dust. Someone had been here recently. It sent a chill through me.
Determined to find answers, I left the house and drove straight to Amanda and Kyle’s home. When I arrived, the house was in disarray, and suitcases were scattered around. Kyle explained they were preparing for a sudden trip to Israel, where a clinic had offered hope for Amanda’s condition. He said they’d be able to help her walk again. I was happy for them, but something didn’t sit right with me.
As I visited Amanda in her room, something caught my eye—a pair of house slippers next to her bed. If she was wheelchair-bound, why did she need slippers? And the footprints at the country house… were they hers? My suspicions grew, but I couldn’t bring myself to confront her, so I left quietly.
Later that day, I received a call from Detective Johnson, the officer handling Kate’s case. He asked me to come to the station—new evidence had surfaced. When I arrived, the detective revealed that Kate’s car had been tampered with. Her accident was no accident at all, and to my shock, I was a suspect. He also informed me that Kate had recently changed her life insurance policy, naming Amanda as the sole beneficiary.
I was stunned. Why would Kate make such a change? And what was really going on with Amanda and Kyle? More confused than ever, I went home and searched through Kate’s belongings, hoping to find some clue. That’s when I found a notebook with an unfamiliar email address and password. Logging into the account, I discovered something that left me shaken to my core—photos of Amanda and me in compromising situations from a year ago.
Kate had known about the affair. I thought we had buried that mistake, but someone had sent those pictures to Kate just before her death. Who sent them, and why?
My suspicions deepened, and I realized Amanda knew more than she was letting on. But was Amanda even Amanda anymore? Or could Kate have survived and staged her own sister’s death?
Determined to uncover the truth, I grabbed my gun and headed to Amanda and Kyle’s house. But when I arrived, the house was deserted. Then, my phone rang again—it was the detective. He had uncovered more evidence and was closing in on the truth. I ignored the call, focused on getting to the bottom of things myself.
I learned from the insurance company that the payout was scheduled for today at a nearby bank. Racing there, I spotted “Amanda” in her wheelchair, talking to the bank manager. In a moment of desperation, I spilled coffee on her lap—and to my shock, she jumped up, revealing she could walk. This wasn’t Amanda. It was Kate.
Before I could react, Detective Johnson and his team stormed in. Kate was arrested on the spot, along with Kyle, who had been waiting in the car. The detective explained their twisted plan: after discovering the affair, Kate had plotted with Kyle to kill Amanda, take the insurance money, and frame me for her death.
As the police led them away, the weight of everything that had happened hit me hard. I had made mistakes, but nothing justified what Kate and Kyle had done. I had lost everything, but at least now, I knew the truth.
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