Widow Starts Laughing Aloud in the Middle of Husband’s Funeral and Calls a Lawyer – Story of the Day

Emily stood cloaked in grief at her husband, Ethan’s open grave. Rain lashed down, blurring the faces of the mourners huddled under umbrellas.

The priest droned on about Ethan’s life, his words a monotonous counterpoint to the symphony of sorrow playing out in Emily’s heart.

Suddenly, a sharp, jarring laugh ripped through the solemnity. Everyone turned, eyes wide with shock, to see Emily shaking with laughter, tears streaming down her face.

The world seemed to hold its breath, then a murmur of unease snaked through the crowd.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Why is she laughing like that?”

“Somebody stop her…is she out of her mind?” an angry guest frowned.

“Stop this!” hissed Martha, Ethan’s aunt, grabbing Emily’s arm. “This is no time for hysterics!”

But Emily pulled away, her laughter turning hysterical.

“No, no,” she gasped, pointing at the polished mahogany casket. “He’s in there! Ethan’s alive! Get him out!”

Panic erupted. Confused whispers morphed into accusatory shouts. Emily, in the throes of her bizarre episode, fumbled for her phone and dialed a frantic number.

“Alex, come to the cemetery… now! They’re burying Ethan alive!”

Minutes later, a sleek black car screeched to a halt, and a sharp-dressed woman, Alex, Ethan’s lawyer, emerged.

Pushing through the throng, he reached Emily, whose laughter had subsided into choked sobs.

“Emily, darling, what’s going on?” Alex asked, concern etched on her face.

“He’s alive, Alex! I know it!” Emily clung to her, her voice trembling. “They’re going to bury him alive!”

“Are you out of your mind, Emily? Ethan’s right there, in the coffin! He’s dead!”

“Trust me, Alex. He’s alive! He’s alive!” Emily cried.

Tears blurred her vision, but she saw the dawning comprehension in Alex’s eyes.

Soon, the police arrived, and Emily was taken to the hospital because she was on the verge of exhaustion.

In the sterile whiteness of the hospital room, Emily, sedated but alert, explained everything to Alex.

“I found a note on my bedside a day before the ‘accident.’ Here it is,” she handed a note to Alex. It read:“He will kill me. I can’t tell you more. Save yourself before he comes for you. I love you. Forever and ever.”

Alex sighed, her brow furrowed. “But Emily, the police report… It said Ethan died in a car accident.”

“Fake! All of it,” Emily insisted. “There’s something more going on, Alex. I know it.”

“But why were you laughing at the funeral? Why did you say he’s alive?” Alex asked.

“I know the killer was there… I pretended so the killer would think I knew something about Ethan. I think the killer’s going to approach me soon… He’d want to talk to me and see if I know Ethan’s death was not an accident.”

“Are you serious, Emily? Are you mad?” Alex shook his head.

“You think he’s going to come TALK to you? You just risked your life by alerting him. He’s going to come after you. For your life. I can’t believe this… And how exactly do you know the killer was there?”

“I overheard someone talking on the phone saying, ‘he’s dead for real,'” she revealed. “I couldn’t see who exactly said it, but I’m sure I heard those words.”

“This is crazy, Emily,” Alex said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

“You need to go home and rest. You’re imagining things.”

Looking exhausted and pale, Emily was released the next day. Alex accompanied her to her house. Back there, the quietness reminded Emily of Ethan.

She was sitting on the couch, wondering what had happened to him, when a sudden rapping at the door brought her out of her thoughts.

Who could it be? She thought as she walked towards the door. Is it Ethan’s killer?

Her heart pounded as she lifted herself on her toes and pressed her eyes on the peephole.

“Wh-who is that?” she gasped.

A man in a crisp blue suit stood on the threshold, facing the other side. Emily got a glimpse of only his back.

She twisted the doorknob with trembling hands, and slowly opened the door. The man turned around and what Emily saw made her heart pound against her chest.

“E-Ethan??” she shrieked, almost on the verge of collapsing on the floor.

Meanwhile, Alex, who was working in the kitchen, got worried.

“Who is it, Emily?” Alex asked.

The man, standing at the doorstep, looked exactly like Ethan. The only thing that was different was the look in his eyes. She hadn’t ever seen it in her husband’s eyes.

“My name is Daniel,” he said, his gaze shifting from Emily to Alex. “Ethan’s brother.”

The revelation hit Emily like a punch to the gut. Ethan never mentioned a brother.

“Ethan… has a brother?” she stammered.

Daniel nodded, his expression shadowed. “We had a falling out, years ago. That’s why he must have never told you about me.”

“Let me come in, Emily,” he continued. “I’m here after hearing about his death. I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Sure. Please come in,” Emily replied, stepping back to allow him to enter.

Emily asked him to sit on the couch and Alex sat beside him. Over there, Daniel recalled what had happened between him and Ethan.

“It wasn’t a simple disagreement. Ethan… he always craved the spotlight, the attention. Our parents doted on him, saw him as the golden child.”

A flicker of bitterness crossed his features.

“I was always the quiet one, the introspective one. But Ethan, he thrived on the validation. He’d manipulate situations, twist the narrative to make himself look good, leaving me… well, the lesser brother.”

Alex leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “Did he ever do anything… specific?”

Daniel nodded, a grim smile playing on his lips. “One instance stands out. We were both vying for a prestigious internship at a renowned architecture firm. I’d poured my heart and soul into the application portfolio, but somehow, Ethan ended up getting it.”

“How?” Emily gasped.

“He… ‘borrowed’ my work,” Daniel said, his voice tinged with a weary anger. “He presented it as his own, with a few minor tweaks. When I confronted him, he denied everything, playing the victim. My parents, blinded by their favoritism, believed him.”

He paused, his eyes filled with a deep sadness.

“That was the final straw. I cut ties with him, refused to be a part of his charade anymore.”

“And he never tried to reconcile?” Alex asked softly.

Daniel shook his head. “Not once. He built his life on a foundation of lies, and I wouldn’t be a part of it. Then, the news of his accident reached me. I… I couldn’t believe it. I think something’s not right.”

“You think so?” Emily’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, I mean… The police report said he was drunk driving,” Daniel said. “I don’t think my brother can be that careless. He wasn’t like that.”

“Before we continue, can I excuse myself to the restroom?” Daniel looked around the house.

“Of course, please let me show you the way,” Emily rose from the couch. “It’s just down the hall on the left.”

“Thanks,” Daniel said. “I’ll be right back.”

Emily and Alex exchanged a glance.

“How does he know what his brother was like? He wasn’t in touch with him,” Alex whispered.

“Something seems off, Emily.”

“I know… That sounded strange,” she said, reaching for the drawer beside her couch. She slid something out of the drawer and put it in her pocket.

Just then, a heavy hand clamped over her mouth and a rough voice spoke in her ear. “Don’t make a sound.”

Panic surged through Emily’s veins. She twisted around, catching a glimpse of a masked figure before a blow to the head sent her world swirling into darkness.

When she awoke, she found herself bound to a chair in a dimly lit cabin. Alex lay next to her, similarly restrained.

Across from them stood a figure cloaked in shadow, a cold fury radiating from their stance.

“So, Emily,” the figure rasped, pulling off the mask to reveal a face contorted with rage. “You seem to be under the impression I’m dead.”

Shock rendered Emily speechless. This wasn’t the Ethan she remembered. The glow in his eyes was replaced by a chilling emptiness.

“That little note, clever, wasn’t it? And the voice you heard at the funeral?” Ethan sneered. “Just enough to plant a seed of doubt. But it seems you reacted more than I had anticipated.”

He circled them like a predator, a cruel glint in his eyes.

“I did this for the insurance money,” he spat. “Seemed like a good solution to all my problems.”

His words hit Emily like a physical blow. The man she loved, the man she’d grieved, was a cold-blooded murderer who orchestrated his own death?

“And your brother?” choked out Alex, her voice hoarse.

Ethan scoffed. “He’s six feet under the ground! In the same grave where you all buried me. All I had to do was tamper with his car and spike his drink when I met him a few days ago.”

A wave of nausea washed over Emily. Daniel became a victim of Ethan’s greed and Ethan got rid of him for just a few bucks.

“Now that the world knows your husband, Ethan, is dead in the real world, no one can stop me from getting the insurance money. Wanna know how?”

Emily stared at him with eyes wide open.

“I’ll get rid of you, and then the insurance money will be legally transferred to the only heir to this entire estate—my brother Daniel… Who is now dead!”

“How could you?” Emily said, her voice tinged with disgust. “That’s so sick of you, Ethan!”

“How could you kill your own brother, Ethan?” Alex sighed.

Just when Ethan turned to talk to Alex, Emily struggled to slide her hand into her pocket and press the panic button she had put there earlier. She pressed it right when Ethan wasn’t looking at her.

A few minutes later, they heard a crashing sound as the cops barged inside the house. Soon, Ethan was surrounded by cops and K-9s.

The aftermath was a blur of paperwork, questioning, and exhaustion. The truth about Ethan’s faked death and Daniel’s murder spilled out, a dark stain on the memory of the man Emily thought she knew.

Later, standing by Daniel’s grave, a single white rose clutched in her hand, Emily felt a catharsis wash over her. Justice, however imperfect, had been served.

She had lost more than just a husband; she had lost the illusion of a happy marriage. But amidst the pain, a kernel of strength bloomed within her.

“You deserved better,” she whispered, the wind carrying her words towards the headstone.

As she turned to leave, a hand touched her shoulder. Alex stood beside her, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Ready to move on?” she asked gently.

Emily returned the smile, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes.

“Yes, Alex,” she said, her voice firm. “I am.”

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.