My mother’s funeral passed as if I were walking through a thick fog. People offered condolences, hugged me, some placed food on the table for remembrance, others cried quietly. I barely registered any of it.
By evening, the guests slowly began to leave. The air inside the house grew heavy and suffocating. I felt the need for fresh air, so I quietly walked down to the river.
The bank was wet and slippery after the rain. I stood right at the edge when suddenly the ground gave way beneath my feet. I didn’t even have time to scream before I found myself in the freezing water.
The current was unexpectedly strong. My dress immediately dragged me down, and my shoes made every movement harder. For a few seconds, I swallowed water and was certain I was going to drown.
But in my youth, I had trained in swimming for many years. That saved my life. Instinct reacted faster than fear. I flipped onto my back, pushed with my legs, and swam toward the reeds growing along the bank. My fingers found the firm stalks. I clung to them and, with great effort, managed to pull myself onto the shore.
I lay in the wet mud, trying to catch my breath. That’s when I heard voices.
Someone stepped onto the slope right above my head. Carefully, I looked up through the reeds—and froze.
It was my husband and my best friend.
THEY STOOD RIGHT AT THE EDGE, STARING INTO THE WATER.
They stood right at the edge, staring into the water.
“She won’t come back up,” my husband said calmly. “Even experienced swimmers would barely stand a chance here.”
“And if she does?” my friend asked nervously.
“She won’t. Besides, everyone saw she had a bit to drink after the funeral. She simply slipped and fell into the water.”
My friend let out a quiet giggle.
“Yes, it’s not a problem. I’ll say I saw her slip and fall. I’ll claim I tried to help, but it was too late.”
“Exactly,” my husband replied.
At that moment, I realized that my fall into the river might not have been an accident at all.
MY FRIEND FELL SILENT FOR A MOMENT, THEN SUDDENLY ASKED:
My friend paused briefly, then suddenly asked:
“So… what did you do about her mother’s death? Did you bribe someone?”
My husband answered calmly, as if discussing something completely ordinary.
“Yes. Everything is under control. Everyone believes the heart attack story.”
Something inside me shattered.
My friend laughed softly.
“You promised you’d tell everything once both of them were dead. So explain now—why did you want to get rid of them both at the same time?”
My husband remained silent for a few seconds.
“Because they knew a very important secret.”
“And what was it?”
I held my breath.
Then he said something that sent an icy chill down my spine. Because of that secret, he had gotten rid of my mother… and for the same reason, he wanted to eliminate me as well 😨😱
Shortly before her death, my mother had called me and asked me to come to her urgently. When I arrived, she was sitting in the kitchen in her robe, holding an old photograph in her hands.
“Do you remember my brother?” she asked quietly.
I only remembered him vaguely. A tall man who used to carry me on his shoulders when I was little. He died when I was six years old.
My mother fell silent for a moment, then said:
THEY HELPED HIM DIE.
They helped him die. And I kept silent about it for almost forty years.
She told me that her brother had worked in the district administration and had been responsible for allocating land plots. In the late seventies, several influential people had illegally transferred large areas of land into their own names. The documents were backdated and stamped with forged seals and signatures.
He was the only person who knew the truth. He managed to take possession of the real documents and hide them with my mother.
A month later, he was found dead on the railway tracks. Everyone was told he had been drinking and had been hit by a train.
My mother had stayed silent about it for nearly forty years because she was afraid. But recently, expensive luxury houses began to be built on those very plots of land. The owner of the construction project was the son of a man who had falsified the documents back then.
My mother said she had started being watched. Strange cars kept appearing near her house.
“They’ve found out,” she said.
Before I left, my mother said:
I MOVED THE DOCUMENTS TO ANOTHER PLACE.
I moved the documents to another place. I won’t tell you the address. Look where we used to go often when you were little. If you find them—take them to court.
At the time, I didn’t understand how dangerous all of this was. But somehow my husband had learned about the documents. And as I listened to his conversation with my best friend, I finally understood the truth.
They had killed my mother. And just moments ago, they had tried to kill me too.
