3 Heart-Stopping Stories about Departed Loved Ones Somehow Turning out to be Alive

Here are three stories of such families where "dead" loved ones turned out to be alive – but not in the way you might expect. The folks in these stories got a major shock when they learned the truth about their relatives' deaths.

1. My Dog Kept Barking at My Dad's Coffin, I Opened It and Found It Empty

I climbed out of the car and stood outside the church. Knowing I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Dad hit me hard. "We couldn't even give him a proper funeral," I thought. Suddenly, Bella's sharp bark tore me from my thoughts.

I turned to my car, where Bella was more agitated than usual.

"Bella!" I gave her a hand signal to lie down, and she obeyed. I patted her head through the open window. "Now, stay, girl."

Ignoring her whine, I walked away and entered the church. Dad's casket was already in place, closed, and the funeral director had discreetly cordoned off the immediate area because he had died of an infectious disease.

I took a seat beside Mom. Dad would be cremated, not buried, given the circumstances.

Just as the mass ended and mourners rose to sing the final hymn, Bella's bark echoed through the church. She jumped on the casket, knocking the flower arrangement to the floor, and began barking loudly.

When Bella sat in her alert position on the floor and stared at me, a chill ran down my spine. I could feel something was off.

"Open the casket!" I demanded.

A gasp rang out in the gathering as I said that. But I didn't care. I walked over to the casket and threw it open, only to find it empty.

"Wh-Where's my brother?" My uncle stared at the funeral director.

Mom couldn't stand what was happening. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, and her knees gave way. I caught her just in time before her head hit the marble floor. Rushing her to the hospital was all I could think of.

At Mom's house, I called the police.

"At this point, all we know is that the coroner confirmed the cause of death and released the remains to the funeral home," Detective Bradshaw told me. "Was your dad involved in any activities I should be aware of?"

I hadn't been involved in Dad's business since I opened my dog training center, so I didn't know much about his business. But I knew Dad would never risk his or the company's reputation and get involved in anything shady. I told Detective Bradshaw the same.

Since there were no leads yet, Detective Bradshaw left, promising to keep me updated. But waiting wasn't my style. The hospital was keeping Mom overnight. Leaving Bella at home, I went to the morgue to find answers.

"The coroner resigned? What about the new coroner?" I was baffled when the nurse at the reception informed me there was no new coroner yet. I asked to see Dad's file, but she refused, saying it was against policies.

I knew how to play the game. I set $1000 on the counter, and she turned a blind eye when I slipped inside the coroner's office. I started searching the shelves for Dad's file, but it was futile. His file was missing.

Frustration gnawed at me. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was Dad's lawyer, Mr. Stevens. He informed me I was the new CEO of Dad's company and wanted to see me urgently.

As I arrived at Dad's office, I opened his Gmail on his computer, only to find the inbox empty. Someone had deleted the messages.

"Ryan! Good to see you," Mr. Stevens entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"Who's been using this computer?" I asked him.

"Nobody," Mr. Stevens replied.

"Wait, where are the dancers?" I noticed two figurines were missing from Dad's office.

"Oh, he took them home. Poor Arnold…he could never get the third figurine in the set. Can you believe the man who owns it won't accept anything less than half a million?" Mr. Stevens said.

I knew Dad hadn't taken them home. I'd ransacked my parents' entire house since I arrived for the funeral, and those dancers were nowhere to be seen.

"But anyway, we have more pressing matters to discuss…" Mr. Stevens informed me we were in deep debt, and several investors were threatening to pull out because Dad had been blowing off meetings for months before his death.

"...and it all started when his new secretary began working here. With all due respect to Arnold and his family, I believe he was having a romantic relationship with her," Mr. Stevens revealed.

The thought of my mom's sad face flashed in my mind, and I almost lost it. I would've confronted Dad's secretary right then and there if Mr. Stevens hadn't stopped me — it would only damage Dad's reputation.

I spent the day scrambling to fix the debt problem and sent gift baskets to the most important investors. After work, I tailed Dad's secretary, Miss Pearson, and saw her pull into the garage of a regular suburban house. She was my only lead so far, so I parked outside her house and waited. Didn't even realize when I dozed off.

Sometime later, the whirring of the garage door woke me up. I saw her head out in her car, and I wanted to follow her. But then, a better idea struck me. I jumped out of my car and managed to sneak into her garage just before the door closed. There, I found a doorway leading into the house.

The kitchen was the first place I checked, rummaging through drawers until I found a flashlight. I didn't want to turn on any lights in case Miss Pearson came home unexpectedly. My heart sank when I entered her bedroom and saw a framed photo of her kissing Dad on the nightstand.

Keeping my cool, I reminded myself I was here for a clue, anything that would help me figure out what happened to Dad. I searched Miss Pearson's house but came up empty-handed. Dejected, I was about to leave when I noticed a slightly open drawer in the coffee table.

A Manila envelope there caught my eye. Inside was Dad's life insurance policy for a whopping $7 million, and the sole beneficiary was…Miss Pearson! I grabbed the document and headed straight for the police station.

"This is quite compelling," Detective Bradshaw said, examining the document. "Let me see what else I can dig up on this Pearson woman."

I was waiting by the front desk when she approached me with a team of officers. It turned out Miss Pearson was booked on a flight to Morocco, leaving in half an hour.

"Since the US has no extradition treaty with the Moroccan government, it's crucial we bring her in for questioning before she boards the plane."

I wanted to join the officers, but Detective Bradshaw refused because I was a civilian. Ignoring her, I followed them anyway.

"Police!" Detective Bradshaw yelled as she and her team approached a boarding gate. "Let us through!"

I snuck past the airport security officers by blending in with the crowd, and we proceeded to the boarding area. The cops immediately fanned out and started checking the passengers.

"You there! The dark-haired woman in the white shirt! Step out of the line and raise your hands in the air," Detective Bradshaw yelled.

Relief washed over me when they caught Miss Pearson, but my smile vanished as the woman turned around. It wasn't Miss Pearson. The cops continued their search for hours, but Miss Pearson was gone.

I knew the figurines weren't at home. Wherever Dad was, he must've taken them with him. I looked up the collector who had the third one online and drove straight to him.

"So…how much?" I asked, pointing to the figurine.

"$750,000," the collector, Mr. Frederick, replied.

"That's insane, sir. That's way above market value," I said.

"Then don't buy it. The price is non-negotiable, young man!" he snapped.

I had to have it, so I asked for time to arrange the money. Back in my car, I dialed Mr. Stevens. I needed to sell $750,000 worth of my company shares.

"But then you won't have a controlling stake in the company, Ryan!" Mr. Stevens said.

"I know, Mr. Stevens, but this is urgent. I need the cash right away. I should be able to buy back the shares within a week, though."

"Ryan," Mr. Stevens eventually said, "as a major stakeholder and the company's legal advisor, I suspect it wouldn't be wise to pry about why you need such a large sum on such short notice."

"However," he continued, "as a longtime family friend, I need to know if this is connected to the suspicion I shared about Miss Pearson."

"In a way, yes," I replied.

Mr. Stevens sighed. "She's vanished too, you know. Didn't show up for work today, and her phone's dead. I'll get you the money...details are best left undiscussed...and wire it ASAP."

When the money hit my account, I rushed back to see Mr. Frederick. The old man mumbled something about the figurine being worth more since it completed the set, but I cut him off.

"You asked for $750,000, sir, and that's what you're getting, effective immediately. Are you a man of your word, Mr. Frederick?"

He finally agreed to sell me the figurine. I made a few calls from my car and made a quick stop before heading back to Mom's.

"Where have you been, Ryan?" Mom asked. "I get back from the hospital to an empty house and a bored Bella. Your dog misses you, you know? I can barely keep her entertained, and I haven't seen you since the funeral."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. "Just trust me, this is very important. It'll all be over soon."

I had a plan.

Two days later, I stood behind a pillar at an auction house, studying the crowd. My figurine was next. I watched as it was brought to the front.

The price climbed, and the bidders dwindled down to two. Neither was Dad.

I'd insisted on anonymity and even paid for ads to make sure Dad, wherever he was, would know the figurine was being auctioned today. I knew how badly he wanted it, and if he was alive, he would show up.

"$600,000 going once," the auctioneer declared.

My heart sank. Not only would I lose my bait, but I might lose a ton of money on the figurine, too.

"...going twice..."

"$1 million!"

My skin prickled at the sound of Dad's voice. I stared in shock as Dad rose from a seat near the back, removing his hat.

"$1 million going once...going twice...sold to the man in the beige coat!" The auctioneer banged his gavel.

Dad put his hat back on and headed for the door. I raced around the edge of the room and blocked his path. Then Detective Bradshaw stepped forward and slapped cuffs on Dad.

"Ryan?" Dad gasped. "You tricked me! This was a trap!"

"Don't play the victim, Dad! You had an affair and faked your own death to run off with your mistress! How could you?"

He hung his head, confessing he was tired of his old life and wanted a fresh start with Miss Pearson.

"So you took a huge life insurance payout, bribed the coroner, and had us all mourn an empty casket? 'A man should do what is right, not follow his own selfish interests.' You taught me that, Dad. I'm sorry you couldn't follow your own principles."

Detective Bradshaw assured me Miss Pearson would be caught soon, too. Then, they took Dad away.

2. I Called My Late Wife's Number and Received an Answer from Her

It was a normal Sunday, and I sat in "Paprika," a small café in the city's heart. The area was full of life, but I felt alone.

This café was special to Kate and me. We came here every weekend for seven years. Every corner reminded me of her. Our first date, her birthdays, her favorite cinnamon roll.

I missed Kate. I missed her laugh, her touch, and her smile, so I dialed her number again, hoping to hear her on the answering machine. "Hi, you've reached Kate..."

I'd called many times since she passed. It was how I remembered her. I thought about the day I proposed, our wedding, and all the times she supported me.

Kate's funeral was a few days ago. It was incredibly hard. The day was gray and cold. Empty. The ceremony passed in a blur, and everyone's words of comfort sounded distant. I couldn't believe my wife, the love of my life, was gone.

Her death was a shock, too. She died after her car fell into a canyon, and the doctors couldn't do anything. "She's gone," they said. Those words stayed with me. But I still had people who loved me.

After Kate's death, her twin sister, Amanda, and her husband, Kyle, were my only family. Amanda was sick and used a wheelchair. She only had a few years left. Still, she told me, "We'll get through this together, Peter."

Kyle was supportive, too.

Lost in thought at that café, I didn't even feel someone approaching me until a gentle tap nudged my shoulder. It was Carmen, a relative of Kate's. I'd only met her briefly at our wedding.

"What happened? Why are you so sad?" Carmen asked, and I told her about the accident. She was shocked. "Oh, Peter, I had no idea. That's why she hasn't been answering me…"

She went on to explain that she had been trying to contact Kate, unaware of her new phone number and thus had resorted to calling the old number at their family country house. "But I guess no one has been living there for a long time, only Kate's answering machine was there," she added.

"Kate's voice is on the answering machine?" I asked.

Carmen nodded and gave me the number.

Once I was alone, I called the number, eager to hear another version of her message. Kate's voice on the answering machine made me smile, so I called again. But on the third call, something changed. Someone picked up, and the most familiar voice came.

"What are you doing? NO!" Kate's voice said, then silence. I called again but only got the machine. Was my grief tricking me?