The day was shrouded in gray mist, as if nature itself mourned. People dressed in black gathered slowly in the church, whispering memories of the kind, gentle woman they had come to bid farewell. Everyone said she had died too soon, leaving behind a loving husband and a four-year-old son.
The boy insisted the woman in the coffin wasnt his motherat first, everyone assumed it was grief speaking, until they opened the casket.
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 goodbye. Suddenly, the boy burst into tears, tearing himself from his fathers grip, screaming at the top of his lungs:
“Thats not Mama! My mom isnt here! Shes not there! Daddy, dont let them! Take me to Mom!”
At first, they thought it was just a childs grief, an incomprehension of death. But the boy kept sobbing hysterically, clinging to the wooden coffin:
“Thats not her! Thats not her face! Its not her!”
People exchanged uneasy glances. The boys father froze, pale as if struck by lightning. Something in his sons voice made his heart stutter. Swallowing his horror, he raised a hand and demanded in a broken voice that the ceremony stop.
“Open” he whispered faintly. “Open the coffin.”
The workers hesitated but obeyed after seeing his expression. The lid creaked open. And then, they all saw something horrifying and unexpected.
The boy had been rightit wasnt her.
Silence fell. The coffin opened, and a scream followed. Some covered their faces; others stumbled back. The woman inside was a strangerdifferent features, a different face beneath the makeup, though her hair and build were similar.
The father staggered back, gripping the coffins edge. His son hadnt lost his mind. He was right. That wasnt her.
The scandal erupted instantly. Within an hour, the morgue confirmed the terrible mistakebodies had been switched. Due to staff negligence, the boys mother wasnt among those prepared for burial.
Where was she? No one knew. A frantic search began. The morgue called relatives of other deceased, checking records, verifying tags, questioning staff.
Six hours later, they found herprepared for cremation in another city, another morgue. Had it not been for the boys cries, she would have been lost forever.
