I kissed my wife goodbye in her coffin—then found a navy button in her hand that belonged to my brother, and everything changed

tilted her head toward it.

“There, son. Be strong.”

The lilies slipped from my hand and scattered across the floor.

I walked to the coffin like the room had gone silent around me. Camila lay inside, pale and beautiful, hair arranged neatly on a white pillow. She looked almost asleep.

But something was wrong.

Camila hated the way people arranged the dead continue reading …