My Son-in-law Took $280,000 For My Daughter’s Funeral Expenses. I Just Opened Her Urn And Found Coffee Grounds Instead Of Ashes. Who Have I Been Mourning For Seven Years?

“He said it was self-defense. That I’d just been protecting myself. But he said…” She stopped.

She looked at me. “He said even if it was an accident, even if it was self-defense, I’d probably still go to prison. That Natalie’s family would push for charges. That I’d lose everything. Lose you, lose Mom, lose Ivy.” She said.

“So he suggested faking your death?” Roger asked. Willa nodded.

“He said it was the only way. That if I disappeared, if everyone thought I was gone, no one would connect me to what happened with Natalie.” She said.

“He said he’d take care of everything. The situation, the evidence, all of it. I just had to trust him.” She added.

“And you did?” I asked. “What choice did I have?” She asked.

Her voice rose, desperate. “My best friend had just… I was responsible for what happened! I was terrified! And Brad—Brad was so calm, so sure!” She said.

“He said he knew someone who could help. Someone who worked at the morgue.” She added. I felt sick.

“Gary?” I asked. “I don’t know his name. Brad never told me. But yeah, someone at the morgue.” She answered.

“Brad said he could help us with—with the situation. Someone who had passed without family, someone no one would miss.” She said. She shuddered.

“It sounds so horrible saying it out loud.” She said. “What happened to Natalie?” Roger asked.

“Brad said he took care of everything. That no one would ever find out. He wouldn’t tell me where; said it was safer if I didn’t know.” She said.

Willa wrapped her arms around herself. “And that same night, he brought me here to the warehouse. Told me to stay put while he arranged everything. The accident, the funeral, all of it.” She said.

“The Route 9 accident?” I asked. “Yeah. He staged it to look like I’d crashed. The car caught fire. He made sure—made sure what they found couldn’t be identified.” She answered.

“Then he came back here and told me it was done. Everyone thought I was gone, and now I had to stay hidden until it was safe.” She added.

“Safe from what?” Roger asked. “From the police. From Natalie’s family.” Willa answered.

Her voice was hollow. “Brad said they’d figure it out eventually. That someone would notice Natalie was missing. That they’d start asking questions.” She said.

“He said if I stayed hidden, if I just waited it out, eventually people would forget. They would move on.” She added.

“For seven years?” I asked. She laughed bitterly.

“It was supposed to be temporary. A few months, maybe a year. But every time I asked when I could leave, Brad said it wasn’t safe yet.” She said.

“He said the police were still looking. That Natalie’s family hired a private investigator. That people were asking questions about me.” She added.

She looked at the photos of Ivy on the wall. “He said it was better this way. That Ivy was safer not knowing me. That if I came back, if anyone found out what happened, Ivy would suffer for it.” She said.

“So I—I stayed. For her. To protect her.” She added. My chest felt tight.

“Willa, did you know I was sending Brad money?” I asked. “What? No. What—what money?” She asked.

“$40,000 a year for seven years to take care of Ivy.” I said. I felt sick saying it out loud.

Her face went pale. “I—I didn’t know that. Brad never told me.” She said.

“He never mentioned it?” I asked. “No. He just—he brought me food, supplies, sometimes clothes. He said he was taking care of Ivy. That she was fine. That was it.” She answered.

Roger and I exchanged a look. “Willa.” Roger said carefully.

“When Natalie fell, when you checked on her, are you absolutely certain she didn’t make it?” He asked. Willa stared at him.

“She was so hurt. She wasn’t moving.” She said. “But did you check thoroughly? Did Brad check?” He asked.

“He put his fingers on her neck. He said she was gone.” She replied. “But you didn’t see him do it. You were crying, panicking. You might not have seen exactly what he did.” He said.

“What are you saying?” She asked. “I’m saying Brad told you Natalie didn’t make it, but you never actually confirmed it yourself.” He answered.

“You were in shock. You trusted him.” He added. Willa stopped.

“I saw her fall. I saw how badly she was hurt.” She said. “Head injuries can look worse than they are.” Roger said.

“Even minor ones can cause a lot of—” He paused. “…A lot of visible damage. It doesn’t necessarily mean the worst.” He added.

“No.” Willa shook her head. “No, she’s gone. I’m responsible. That’s why I’m here.” She said.

Roger looked at me, then back at Willa. “Willa, have you seen Natalie since that night?” He asked.

“Of course not.” She said. “Have you seen anything that proves what Brad told you was true?” He asked.

“Brad said…” She began. “Brad said a lot of things.” Roger said.

His voice was firm. “But have you actually seen proof?” He asked. Willa’s face crumpled.

“Why are you asking me this?” She asked.

A Calculated Betrayal

Roger pulled out his phone, scrolled through something, then turned the screen toward Willa. “Because I ran Natalie Hughes’s name through the system yesterday, and according to public records, she’s very much alive.” He said.

Willa stared at the phone at whatever Roger was showing her, and the color drained from her face. “That’s not possible.” She whispered.

“This photo was taken six weeks ago at a coffee shop in town. That’s Natalie Hughes, alive and well.” Roger said.

Willa looked at Roger, then at me. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. “No.” She finally whispered.

“She’s gone. I saw her. I’m responsible for what happened.” She added. Roger’s eyes met mine.

“No, Willa. I don’t think you are.” He said. The truth wasn’t just different from what I thought; it was the opposite.

Roger pulled out his phone and showed Willa a photo. “This.” He said quietly. “…Was taken three days ago.” He added.

Willa stared at the screen. Her face went white.

Actually white, like all the blood had drained out of it in an instant. “That’s—that’s not possible.” She said.

“That’s Natalie Hughes.” Roger said. “At Corner Brew, the coffee shop on Main Street, three days ago. Very much alive.” He added.