The day was shrouded in gray fog, as if nature itself mourned. People dressed in black gathered slowly in the church, whispering memories of the kind, radiant woman they had come to bury. Everyone agreed she had died too soon, leaving behind a loving husband and a four-year-old son.
The boy stood beside his father, clutching a stuffed rabbit. His lips trembled, but he didnt cryuntil the priest invited everyone to say their final farewells. Suddenly, the child wailed, breaking free from his fathers grasp, shouting at the top of his lungs:
“Thats not Mama! My mom isnt here! Shes not there! Daddy, dont let them! Take me to Mama!”
At first, everyone assumed it was just grief, a childs inability to comprehend death. But the boy kept sobbing hysterically, gripping the wooden coffin:
“Thats not her! Thats not her face! Its not her!”
People exchanged uneasy glances. The boys father turned pale, freezing as if struck by lightning. Something in his sons voice made his heart stop. Suppressing horror, he raised a trembling hand and demanded the ceremony halt.
“Open… it,” he whispered, barely audible. “Open the coffin.”
The workers hesitated but obeyed after seeing his expression. The lid lifted slowlyand then everyone saw something terrible and unexpected.
Silence fell. The coffin was open, and the next moment, a scream erupted. Some covered their faces, others stumbled back. Before them lay a womanbut not the right one.
Her features were different. Even with makeup, she was unmistakably someone else, despite similar hair and build.
The father staggered, gripping the coffins edge. He realized his son hadnt lost his mind. He was right. This wasnt her.
The scandal exploded instantly. Within an hour, the morgue confirmed the horrific truth: the bodies had been mixed up. Due to staff negligence, the boys mother hadnt been prepared for burial.
Where she wasno one knew. The search began. The morgue frantically called relatives of other deceased, checking records, verifying tags, questioning employees.
Her real body was found six hours later. She had been prepared for cremationin another city, another morgue. Had it not been for her sons cries, she would have been lost forever.
