A Ritual Shattered
Every Sunday, I visited my husband Owen’s grave, mourning his sudden death. The cemetery was my sanctuary—until eggs began appearing, smashed against his gravestone.
A Shocking Discovery
On the anniversary of his death, I caught the vandal—my sister, Madison. “We had an affair for five years,” she confessed. “He promised me everything but left me with nothing.”
Finding Peace
Shaken, I questioned everything, but Madison’s daughter revealed her actions stemmed from jealousy, not love. I refused to let bitterness taint my memories. “Goodbye, Madison,” I said. “You can’t take him from me.”
