I returned home from military service, hoping to see my wife’s smile. Instead, I found a coffin in the middle of the living room. “We lost her in childbirth…” my mother said in a cold voice that sent shivers down my spine. I approached, trembling, to see her one last time… and then I realized. My wife’s stiff hand was still clutching something. And my mother turned pale when I tried to pry her fingers apart.
The coffin was waiting in my living room before I had even taken off my uniform. My mother stood beside it without a single tear and said, “Your wife died giving birth, Daniel.”
For three seconds, the world made no sound.
Then I heard the weak crying of a newborn somewhere upstairs.
I dropped my duffel bag and walked toward the coffin. The lid was open. Emily lay inside wearing the blue dress she had chosen for my homecoming, her skin pale, her dark hair arranged too carefully around her face. No hospital bracelet. No flowers from the clinic. No doctor waiting to explain what had happened.
“Click here to read the full story”.
