Unable to endure his wife’s funeral, the man hurried away early from the cemetery…

Vehicle left the road and flipped, victim extracted by emergency services unconscious. Delivered in critical condition by ambulance around midnight. And who exactly brought her?» «Per records, county ambulance crew accompanied by relative doctor.

But very strange. What’s strange exactly? Here only brief note that relatives request full confidentiality for family reasons. No more details like other patients.»

Alex clenched his fists. The picture grew clearer and more horrifying. Olivia really crashed but didn’t die.

Relatives, learning the will’s content from Grandpa Nicholas, decided to stage her death. They arranged the switch, brought her here under fake docs, and in the morgue showed him some other dead woman’s body. «Scoundrels,» he whispered.

Own people worse than enemies. «Uncle Alex,» Katie called quietly from the door, watching the hall. «What will you do now? How to prove it’s your wife?» Great question.

What to do? How to prove Olivia’s identity? How to get her out legally? And mainly, how to protect from those who already tried to kill her once. «Don’t know yet, honestly,» he replied. Need to think hard, consult a lawyer.

Suddenly footsteps approached in the hall. Two people, by the sound, talking seriously. «Quickly out of here.»

Anna panicked. «Doctors returning from lunch.» They quietly slipped from the room and went to the service stairs.

Anna led them to the first floor, constantly looking back and nervous. «Anna,» Alex said at the exit, «can I come tomorrow to make sure it’s not a hallucination?» «Better not.

If you show up often, someone will notice and ask questions.» «Then how to know her condition? Any improvement?» Anna thought. «Come day after tomorrow evening around eight.

I’ll be mopping that wing after day shift ends. If anything changes, I’ll tell.» Alex nodded and headed out. That evening Alex sat in his empty apartment trying to order his thoughts. Olivia alive—that’s the main and most important discovery.

But she’s in coma, under fake docs, and relatives think her dead. What next? Go to police with a statement? But how to prove the woman in hospital is his wife? Docs forged, doctors either bribed or misled. And relatives can easily say he’s gone mad from grief and sees his dead wife everywhere.

Need ironclad proof. Irrefutable, scientifically based proof. And need someone to help gather it professionally and legally.

Alex pulled out his phone and dialed his old army buddy, private investigator Brian Peterson. They served together in the airborne 20 years ago. Then Brian went to police, rose to lieutenant colonel, and after retirement opened a private detective agency.

Honest, principled man with spotless reputation. «Brian? Alex Thompson.» «Alex.

How’s it going, brother? Heard about your terrible loss from mutual friends. Deepest sympathies, hang in there.» «Brian, I need help urgently.

Professional help. And possibly very fast.» «Listening carefully.

What’s up?» Alex detailed the incredible story: accident, morgue ID, funeral, meeting Katie, hospital. Brian listened silently, occasionally asking for details and noting in a pad. «Alex, you realize this whole story sounds like the ravings of a mentally ill person.»

He said when Alex finished. «I do. But I saw her, Brian.

It was Olivia, my wife. I’m a hundred percent sure.» «Suppose you’re right.

Then we’re dealing with a very serious and well-organized crime. Fraud on a large scale, forgery of official documents, attempted murder.» «What exactly do you want from me?» «Help gather irrefutable proof.

Find out who was in the morgue when they showed me the body. Learn where this unknown woman came from, passed off as Olivia. Check all hospitalization docs.

Find accident witnesses in Riverton area.» «You understand this will cost a lot? And take quite some time?» «I’ll find the money, sell the car, borrow from friends.» «And we may have no time at all.

If relatives realize their plan’s exposed,» «I understand the seriousness. And one more thing—this is extremely dangerous. If your suspicions are true, we’re up against people ready to kill for money.

I get that perfectly, Brian. But there’s no other way.» Brian was silent long, thinking and weighing pros and cons.

«Alright, old man. Let’s try to sort this out. But we’ll act extremely carefully and methodically…

And not a word to anyone until we have enough evidence for a criminal case.» «Fully agree.» «Meet tomorrow morning at my office at 9 a.m.

Bring absolutely all documents—marriage certificate, Olivia’s medical records, her photos, death certificate.» «And prepare money for initial expenses, at least 25 thousand dollars.» After talking to Brian, Alex felt some relief.

Now he wasn’t alone in this fight for justice. But anxiety lingered. If relatives were ready to stage death for inheritance, what else could they do? And what if they already guessed their plan might be exposed? What then for defenseless Olivia? Alex couldn’t eat or sleep.

He paced the apartment, looked at wife’s photos, tried to understand how he missed obvious oddities before. There were enough suspicious moments; he was just too shocked by grief to notice and analyze. For example, why did Mary so quickly and decisively take over all funeral arrangements? Usually she was pretty irresponsible and not too caring a sister, could go months without calling Olivia…