The funeral was like most: slow, sad, and full of loss that wasn’t talked about. A number of individuals were wearing black and had their heads down. The fragrance of incense was prominent in the air.
In the middle of the room was a coffin. It had a white satin liner that carried the corpse of a young man who was a husband and father. He seemed serene, like he was deep in contemplation. They said it was an accident, a tragic car crash that happened early in the morning. No one saw it coming.
His wife was nearby, pale and unreadable. Their two-year-old daughter was next to her, gripping the hem of her black dress. She looked around with naive confusion while wearing beautiful black lace.
A lot of people thought she didn’t get what was going on. They thought she was too young. She was too young to understand how deeply grief affects people.
But then everything changed all of a sudden.
As the ceremony came to an end, a family member tenderly picked up the little girl and moved her closer to the open casket. People in the room became quiet and respectful.
She rested her small hand on the shiny wood and looked down at her dad.
She didn’t say anything at first. She looked at his face with quiet attention. Then she made a face.
Her lip on the bottom shook.
And then, all of a sudden, she screamed.
— “Get up, Daddy! Dad, why are you sleeping? “Please! Open your eyes!”
The room pulled back. Her voice was so loud that it pierced the silence. A few folks turned away. Some people cried.
But then she said something that no one expected.
She leaned forward, touched her father’s cheek, and cried.
— “Daddy’s scared…” He told me that. “Help me,” he said. “Here I am!”
People moved around. A woman in her 80s put her hand on her chest. A guy in the back of the room leaned forward to try to hear better.
And then the words that changed everything came:
— “He didn’t leave. He’s still in there! “Daddy said he’s stuck.”
People gasped and talked in low voices. People stared at each other with concern. What did she want to say?
The girl’s mother hurried up to her, clearly upset, and knee down next to her.
“Dear… What do you mean by that? What did Dad tell you?
The girl rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. It was still clear, but her voice was weaker now.
– ” He came over last night. He sat on the bed with me. “They did it on purpose,” he said. I shouldn’t have gone. “Uncle.”
The air turned cold.
The room became quiet.
Uncle. The brother of her dad. A man in a gray suit who had been standing quietly by the wall all morning now looked like he was having problems breathing.
A few individuals gazed at him. Someone got up and went without saying a word. There was a phone call.
Someone said, “What did she just say?”
The widow stayed still and looked at her daughter.
“Sweetheart,” she said in a voice that was hard to hear, “What did Daddy say about Uncle?”
For a moment, the girl halted.
“He told me Uncle made him go.” Dad didn’t want to. But Uncle said everything would be fine. The car then fell, and Daddy felt terrible. He said she shouldn’t be mad with him.
Stop talking.
There was a dramatic change.
The man in the gray suit opened his mouth, maybe to deny what was said or to run away, but no sounds came out. His lips trembled. He had misplaced the mask he was wearing.
The next day, the widow went to the police.
They restarted the investigation, which had finished fast.
What they learned changed everything.
The security camera caught the two brothers talking quietly and suspiciously late that night. The police testing showed that the brake lines had been cut. The crash, which had been thought to be an accident, was now thought to be a crime.
But no one knew any of the specifics before.
Who else knew what was going on?
A little girl. Who woke up to find her dad sitting next to her bed? Not angry.
Just afraid.
I tell her to remember the truth.
