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Chapter 2 The Funeral of a Living Woman

Word Count: 992    |    Released on: 21/02/2026

nder

not c

y wife's closed caske

ned glass like nothing terrible has ever happened inside these walls. Outside, camer

loses wife in t

belongs to a headline. N

mells lik

etail more th

er nose, tilt her head, and say they sme

ral," she once said, half-smiling,

tight

center of the room. Dark

to be c

damage, the

y mind like a clause. F

bout that nig

hear her

s aren't w

areful line. Dark suits. Controlled exp

er. They are here for

el i

xpectation. A hand se

cus

le says softly. "This

not m

pirited,"

rit

a woman refuses t

slightly. "She

ith a handkerchief, but his g

ng. Reading. Co

oti

ys not

ose. Perfect posture. Controlled. She gl

ng. Words about peace. A

none

turns to t

in

voic

shift in

ar

ething

still cann

clears hi

and like to say

om shi

ng. Watching.

p for

hesitation.

ice does not shake, "was kind

ght p

ose the ne

oment. Then

love should

th stea

people more than

in the roo

on. Not loud.

el i

ghtens at

ndings between us," I say,

d not plan

slips

tect her the way

. Not sympathy

ho knew

aus

n control. Not vi

eserved better

ep b

eremony continues. But somethi

ns. A shift

s toward the

see

ight posture. Co

ns before my mi

ssib

down the

Meas

p is del

exactly what

lse s

ghts sh

o

dead. Confirmed. Certified.

yet.

s in fron

iv

ath st

ot a simple return. This is something

ce is

ca

And there is not

cogni

sitat

hin

unsettles m

phi

e I can stop it. She ti

is not

ld

roll

epared st

. Not confusi

egin to rise. I do not move.

She does not step back.

d... when she was tryi

ts harder than

ou?" I ask

ets my

is Sophia

ot your

ords

eard her th

fe

voic

ertai

is wom

t match. Something is

My control returns.

now. Something smal

ed your bod

sn't fl

made a m

ent. But somethi

er ten

is not just about

omething larger

liberate. C

haps. Or a

a slow

lose. I study her again. Ev

sounds like her. But she

the last. Not by a long shot. Be

died in t

importa

ed this en

gaze a mome

tween us is no

Unfinished. And somewhere

incidence. This

nning of somethi

l find th

r what i

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