In a quiet restroom, I unfolded the note. The handwriting was neat, unfamiliar. The message spoke of love that could not be lived openly and mentioned “our children.” My heart stopped.
Greg and I had never been able to have children, a sorrow we had carried together for years. The words on that paper suggested a hidden life I could not reconcile with the man I knew. Determined to learn the truth, I asked the chapel’s staff to review the security footage.
On the screen, I watched a woman approach Greg’s resting place alone and discreetly place the note in his hands. I recognized her as Susan, a business contact from Greg’s workplace. Armed with this knowledge, I approached her calmly.
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