I thought finding evidence would fix everything. I thought it would let me return to the past.
I didn't expect the truth to push me into an even deeper abyss.
Perhaps Heaven took pity on me. During the year I spent scavenging for proof, the expedition team that saved me managed to repair my damaged voice recorder.
They told me to come pick it up.
I clutched the device like a lifeline. Inside was the recording of Joseph confronting me on the ice. It captured his confession, his plan to steal the supplies, everything.
I could finally vindicate myself.
As fate would have it, that day was Joel's birthday. Camila, surprisingly, called me.
"No matter what, you're still his biological father," she said stiffly. "You should come."
I didn't refuse. I even went to a barber to trim my hair and shave my ragged beard.
Looking at the aged, weary figure in the mirror, a pang of fear twisted in my gut—fear that I would embarrass my son. I tidied myself up as best I could.
At the party, Joel poured me a glass of wine—a first. Camila sat nearby, smiling, urging him to call me "Dad."
But Joel froze. His eyes darted nervously to Joseph, as if seeking permission.
Acid rose in my throat.
"I only have one dad—and he's not it!"
Joel wailed, tears bursting forth. It was clear Camila had pressured him. Joseph, sitting beside him, looked furious, making a show of wanting to discipline the boy.
"Henry is your biological father," Joseph chided, his voice dripping with fake benevolence. "You can't treat him like this, even if he did disgraceful things in the past."
"Dad, that traitor isn't my father! You don't need to defend him!"
Joel glared at me with pure hatred. Right there at the dinner table, my own son accused me.
He called me a selfish coward. A murderer. He pointed a finger at my nose and cursed me.
Joseph played the martyr perfectly. "Henry, you've been gone for years. The child isn't close to you. Don't take it to heart."
"Yes, Henry," Camila added, placing a hand on Joseph's arm. "After all, it was Joseph who raised him."
My parents frowned, their faces twisted in disgust. "A perfectly good birthday ruined. We told you he was a jinx," my dad sneered. "He hasn't been part of this family for a long time. We can't afford to lose face like this."
In a rage, they ordered me to leave.
Joseph stepped forward to play peacemaker. "It was a critical moment on the ice," he said, sighing. "If it were me, maybe I would have run too. It's just... Henry really intended to kill me back then."
"What nonsense are you spouting?" I roared, my patience snapping. "You really think I came empty-handed?"
In front of everyone, I pulled out the voice recorder.
Joseph's face went pale.
"This records exactly what happened. You wanted to steal the supplies. I tried to stop you. You pushed me into the pit."
"I know you don't believe me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "So let the facts speak."
The room held its breath as I pressed play.
Static hissed. Then a voice.
My voice, yes.
But the words were not mine.
*"Go die, Joseph. If you don't die, sooner or later you'll snatch my Camila away."*
Silence.
Then Joseph burst into tears. "I really have nothing going on with Camila! You misunderstood us!"
*Smack.*
Camila's hand connected hard with my cheek.
"What else do you have to say?" she screamed. "You're just jealous of Joseph! You have a filthy mind, so you see filth everywhere!"
"Security! Throw this trash out!"
They called me crazy. They said I tried to kill Joseph out of jealousy and was now spreading rumors about my wife.
As the security guards dragged me out, I stared at the recorder in my hand, my mind reeling.
I had no idea how the recording had been changed.
