Trevor had always been a man of action, not one for waiting around. The silence in the car was killing him. He turned to Ron and asked if he believed in ghosts.

Ron, shocked by the question, stammered a reply, "Well, I guess, Trevor... I believe in the possibility of... you know... spirits."

Trevor didn't respond. Instead, he stared back at the road, his mind racing with thoughts of Michael. Could he really be alive? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

Night fell, and they continued to drive, the desert landscape passing them by in a blur of moonlit shadows. Trevor's phone buzzed. It was Wade.

"Trevor, I found something," Wade said breathlessly. "There's a man named Michael De Santa living in Los Santos. Could be a pseudonym."

Trevor felt a chill run down his spine. "De Santa... sounds familiar. Keep digging, Wade. I need more." The call ended, leaving Trevor with more questions than answers.

The next day, Trevor and Ron arrived in Los Santos, the city lights a stark contrast to the barren desert they'd left behind. Trevor's heart pounded as they moved closer to the truth.

They found Michael De Santa's house, a lavish mansion in the upscale Rockford Hills neighborhood. Trevor felt a sense of unease as they parked outside the gate.

"I don't like this, Trevor," Ron muttered, glancing nervously around. "This doesn't look like the home of a ghost." Trevor grunted in agreement, his eyes never leaving the mansion.

Suddenly, the front door opened. A man stepped out, his silhouette unmistakable. It was Michael, alive and well. Trevor felt a surge of emotions. Anger, confusion, relief...

Michael looked at the car parked outside his gate. He squinted, trying to make out who was inside. Recognizing Trevor, his face went pale. He quickly retreated back into his house.

Trevor got out of the car, his fists clenched. Ron tried to stop him, but Trevor brushed him off. He was determined to confront Michael and demand answers.

Trevor walked up to the gate, his heart pounding in his chest. He punched in a random code and to his surprise, the gate creaked open. He stepped onto Michael's property.

Trevor reached the front door and banged on it. "Michael!" he shouted. "I know you're in there! I saw you!" Silence. Then, the sound of a lock turning. The door opened.

Michael stood in the doorway, looking older and more worn than Trevor remembered. "Trevor," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought you were dead."

Trevor snorted. "Funny, I heard the same about you." He pushed past Michael, entering the house. It was time for some long-overdue answers.

Michael sighed and closed the door. He led Trevor into the living room, where he began to explain his absence and his new life in Los Santos.

"I had to disappear, Trevor," Michael confessed. "The heat was too much. I couldn't risk my family's safety." Trevor listened, his anger slowly replaced by understanding.

Trevor left the De Santa mansion, his mind filled with turmoil. He had found Michael, but their reunion had opened old wounds and sparked new questions.

Trevor drove back to Blaine County, leaving the glittering lights of Los Santos behind. He had a lot to think about. His past, his present, and his future.

Trevor knew that he couldn't ignore Michael's existence. He also knew that he had to make a decision. Would he welcome Michael back into his life or cut ties forever?

Over the next few days, Trevor wrestled with his thoughts. He was torn between his anger at Michael's betrayal and his relief at finding him alive.

Eventually, Trevor made his decision. He dialed Michael's number, his heart pounding. He was ready to face his past and embrace whatever the future held for them.

"Michael," Trevor said, his voice steady. "We need to talk." He listened as Michael agreed to meet him. Trevor felt a sense of closure. Whatever happened next, he was ready.

The sun was setting as Trevor drove back to Los Santos. He knew that his life would never be the same again. But for the first time in a long time, he was at peace.