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

She glanced around, then slipped her hand under Greg’s, tucked something in, and patted his chest.

Susan.

Susan Miller.

His “work lifesaver.” She owned the supply company that delivered to his office. I’d met her a few times at events. Thin, efficient, always laughing just a little too hard.

At that moment, she was the woman sneaking a note into my husband’s coffin.

I snapped a picture of the paused frame.

“Thank you,” I told Luis.

Then I walked back to the chapel.

Susan was near the back, talking to two women from Greg’s office.

Tissue in her hand, eyes red, like she was the grieving widow in some alternate universe.

When she saw me coming, her expression flickered. Just for a second.

Guilt.

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