During the funeral, a crow landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone present was STRUCK SPEECHLESS…

His talk of finding the culprit felt distant, unreal. She couldn’t think about who or why someone would harm her daughter.

“We need to find out who did this!” the detective said, asking questions. “I don’t know,” Emily replied softly, shaking her head. “I can’t understand this.

Who could?” “It’s impossible!” The detective watched her, likely seeing her overwhelmed by grief. But he was a professional, and his job demanded he press on.

“We’ll do everything to find answers,” he said, trying to comfort her. The day Emily dreaded arrived—the day to say goodbye to her daughter.

How could she let go when her heart was shattering? She didn’t know. She felt empty, drained of all strength. Nothing mattered but the pain consuming her with every breath.

The weather was gray, foggy, like her soul. As she and Brian approached the coffin, a crow landed on its lid. Everyone froze, staring at the bird.

It was strange, eerie, ominous. As if the world itself was trying to say something, but they couldn’t understand what. In that heavy moment of grief, loud, unsteady footsteps echoed from afar.

Emily turned, her heart skipping a beat. Matthew was approaching. Drunk, clutching a whiskey bottle.

Staggering. His clothes were dirty, his face pale, his eyes clouded with alcoholic haze. “Emily!” he slurred loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

“It’s my fault. It’s because of me. That witch killed our daughter.”

Emily froze, unable to believe her ears. Matthew’s words couldn’t pierce her pain. They were like stones falling into a void, meaningless.

She couldn’t take him seriously. “What are you saying?” Her voice shook with indignation, but she tried to stay composed. “What did you just say? Who killed our daughter?” Brian, beside her, lost it.

He grabbed Matthew by the collar, lifting him until he nearly lost balance. “Who killed her?” Brian repeated, his voice low but furious, disbelieving. Matthew leaned close, smirking…

“She’s my daughter.” His words hit like a gunshot, and Emily felt everything slow, like a nightmare. “That witch’s name is Claire.

She killed my daughter. She did it because she found out I wanted to leave everything to her in my will. She acted fast.

Made it look like an accident.” His words stabbed Emily’s heart like a knife. Tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t believe him.

“You’re insane!” she screamed, feeling herself unravel. “You ruined my life. You killed my daughter.

You’re a monster. I hate you.” Emily clutched her face, her body shaking with sobs.

She couldn’t control herself anymore. All her emotions—devastation, pain, bitterness—poured out, sharper than any blade.

Matthew, standing before her, only smirked. “I only recently found out you were pregnant,” he said quietly, head lowered. His words carried in the eerie silence of the cemetery.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant.” Brian couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Matthew’s arm and dragged him away…