The house still smelled like my mom’s lavender candles.
It had only been eight days since we buried her.
Eight days since I watched the casket disappear into the ground while my dad stood beside me, stiff and silent, his hand gripping mine like he was afraid I might disappear too.
I thought we were grieving together.
I thought we were holding each other up.
But grief has a strange way of exposing things people try to hide.
And my father was hiding something big.
It started with whispers.
My aunt Melissa had been around constantly after Mom died. She cooked. Cleaned. Comforted my dad. Everyone said she was just helping us through the tragedy.
I believed it.
She was my mom’s sister, after all.
But one morning, my dad sat me down at the kitchen table.
His face looked pale. Nervous.
“I have something to tell you,” he said.
Then he dropped the bomb.
“Melissa and I are getting married.”
I stared at him.
The words didn’t make sense.
“Married…?” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said quickly. “It just feels right. Your mom would want us to take care of each other.”
Eight days.
EIGHT DAYS AFTER MY MOM DIED.
My chest felt like it collapsed in on itself.
The wedding happened fast.
Too fast.
It was small, rushed, and quiet. Just a few relatives in the backyard of Melissa’s house. No music. No celebration.
Just awkward smiles and people avoiding eye contact.
I stood there feeling like I was watching some twisted dream.
How could everyone act like this was normal?
My dad looked strangely relieved as he slipped the ring on her finger.
Like a man finally escaping something.
And that’s when Melissa’s son — my cousin Evan — walked up to me.
His face looked serious.
Uneasy.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
We stepped away from the crowd and stood near the old oak tree in the yard.
Evan looked over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear us.
Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded envelope.
“You deserve to know,” he said.
My stomach tightened.
“Know what?”
He hesitated before handing it to me.
Inside were hospital papers.
Medical reports.
My mom’s name printed across the top.
And at the bottom…
A toxicology result.
I frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
Evan’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Your mom didn’t die from natural causes.”
The air around me went cold.
“What…?”
He swallowed.
“She was poisoned.”
My hands started shaking.
“That’s impossible.”
Evan shook his head slowly.
“My mom found out last month. She confronted your dad about it.”
My heart slammed in my chest.
“About WHAT?”
He looked straight at me.
His voice barely audible.
“About the affair they’d been having for two years.”
My legs felt weak.
My father…
My aunt…
Behind my mom’s back?
For years?
I looked back toward the wedding.
My dad and Melissa were laughing now.
Holding hands.
Like two people celebrating the start of a happy life.
But suddenly everything felt wrong.
Sick.
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.
Evan’s expression hardened.
“Because the police reopened the investigation this morning.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“What investigation?”
He pointed toward the street.
And that’s when I saw them.
Two police cars slowly pulling up outside the house.
Blue lights flashing silently.
Guests began whispering.
My dad’s smile disappeared.
Melissa’s face turned white.
Evan looked at me with quiet sadness.
Then he said the words that shattered what was left of my world.
“They’re not here for your dad.”
I blinked.
“What?”
Evan exhaled slowly.
And nodded toward the woman in the white wedding dress.
“They’re here for my mom.”
