The sky over the cemetery hung heavy and gray, as if made of lead. A fine drizzle fell intermittently, leaving dark stains on the black fabrics of mourning. That day, they were burying a young woman who had barely stepped into adulthood. She was only twenty-two, and her sudden death had already become wrapped in a fog of rumors and uneasy questions.
Official documents stated one cause — a tragic accident. But there were too many strange details. Neighbors whispered they had seen her crying the night before; others claimed they’d overheard a heated argument behind her apartment door. The family remained silent, insisting on a swift farewell, as if they wanted the story to end quickly and be forgotten.
The coffin was exquisite — crafted from rare dark wood, polished to a mirror shine, adorned with heavy brass handles. When the time came to carry it to the grave, eight men stepped forward — relatives, friends, and two funeral workers brought in to help.
«One, two, three!» one of them commanded.
But the coffin barely moved. The men exchanged confused looks, tightened their grip, and tried again. The handles groaned, the damp ground shifted beneath their feet — yet still, it hardly budged.
«It’s… it’s too heavy,» one of the pallbearers muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. «Feels like there’s more than one person inside…»
The guests began to whisper:
— «I’ve never seen anything like this…»
— «This can’t be right…»
— «What could be in there?»
One of the funeral workers, a man with decades of experience, said quietly:
«I’ve carried coffins with men weighing well over two hundred pounds. But this… this feels like it’s full of stones.»
That’s when the young woman’s mother stepped forward. Her face was pale and rigid, her gaze cold, but in her eyes burned a strange, unsettling determination. She stood in front of the coffin bearers and said:
«Open it.»
«Are you sure?» one of the workers asked cautiously. «This… could be difficult.»
«I said — open it.»
Silence fell over the crowd like a heavy bell. People instinctively stepped back, as though afraid to witness something forbidden. Two men began unscrewing the fastenings, and the lid slowly gave way.
When the polished wood lifted, the air itself seemed to thicken. A few people covered their mouths in shock; someone gasped, and a woman crumpled to her knees.
Inside, on top of the girl’s body, lay several heavy burlap sacks, tightly packed with something solid. There were at least six of them. One man carefully pulled at the edge — the fabric tore, and gray, cold stones spilled out onto the wet earth, mixed with clumps of dirt.
The mother didn’t flinch. She stared at the coffin as though she had expected this all along. Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, she said:
«I knew… They wanted to make sure we’d never find her.»
Her words fell like a sentence. And in that moment, everyone understood — the official story of her death was a lie. Something far darker stood behind it.
People slowly backed away from the coffin, as if even standing near it was dangerous. Only after the sacks were removed could the coffin be lifted and lowered into the ground. But many left the cemetery that day with the image seared into their minds — the shocking truth revealed by the opening of that coffin.
And the mother… She was the first to leave the cemetery, not once looking back. Her steps were firm, unshaken. It was clear she knew exactly who would have to answer for her daughter’s death. And it was equally clear that the funeral was only the beginning.