The day was shrouded in gray mist, as if nature itself mourned. People in black gathered slowly at the church, whispering memories of the kind, radiant woman they were about to lay to rest. Everyone agreed she had left too soon, survived by her grieving husband and four-year-old son.
The boy stood beside his father, clutching a stuffed rabbit. His lips trembled, but he didnt cryuntil the priest invited the mourners to say their final goodbyes. Then, he suddenly wrenched free from his fathers grip and screamed:
Thats not Mom! Shes not there! Dad, dont let them take her! Take me to my real mom!
At first, they assumed it was just a childs grief, his mind rejecting a loss he couldnt comprehend. But the boy kept sobbing hysterically, clawing at the wooden coffin:
Thats not her face! Its not her!
People exchanged uneasy glances. The boys father paled, frozen as if struck by lightning. Something in his sons voice made his heart stop. Swallowing his terror, he raised a hand and choked out a demand to halt the ceremony.
Open Open the casket.
The workers hesitated but obeyed when they saw his expression. The lid creaked openand they saw something horrifying.
Silence. Then, a scream. Some covered their mouths; others stumbled back. Inside lay a womanbut not the right one.
Her features were all wrong. Despite the makeup, this was a stranger, only vaguely similar in hair and build.
The father staggered back, gripping the coffins edge. His son hadnt lost his mind. Hed been right.
Scandal erupted instantly. Within an hour, the morgue confirmed the grim truth: the bodies had been switched. Negligence had left the boys real mother missing from the burial preparations.
No one knew where she was. A frantic search beganphone calls, record checks, desperate questioning of staff.
Six hours later, they found her. She had been prepped for cremationin another city, another morgue. Had the boy not cried out, she would have vanished forever.
