At My Husband’s Funeral, I Opened His Casket to Place a Flower — and Found a Crumpled Note Tucked Under His Hands

“It’s okay. It’s you and me.

That’s enough. You are enough.”

But apparently, there were “our kids” somewhere who loved him “forever.”

My vision blurred. I grabbed the sink and stared at myself in the mirror.

Mascara smeared.

Eyes swollen. I looked like a cliché.

Who wrote this? Who had kids with my husband?

I didn’t cry.

Not then.

I went looking for the cameras.

The security room was a small office with four monitors and a man in a gray uniform. His name tag said “Luis.”

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