Carla’s hands trembled. “And you named our daughter after your first wife?”
Silence filled the room.
Then the little girl’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “Mama?”
“Katie girl,” Carla exclaimed, turning around.
“You were supposed to be napping!”
“I’m not here to take away what you have,” I said. “I just want justice. I lost my baby the day he disappeared, and he admitted to knowing that the entire time.
I will not be painted as unstable so he can stay comfortable.”
Carla looked at him with something colder than anger. “You lied to both of us.”
And this time, Ron had no words left.
The next morning, I didn’t sit around and cry. I started making calls.
At the county office, I requested a certified copy of the death certificate.
The clerk slid it across the counter.
“If you need additional copies, there’s a fee.”
I studied it carefully. The coroner’s name was printed neatly, but the signature above it didn’t match the signature archived on the public record.
I looked up. “Who verifies these?”
The clerk hesitated.
“The funeral home submits documentation.
The attending physician signs. After that, it’s processed.”
“Processed without checking the body?”
Her expression changed. “Ma’am, I don’t handle that.”
At the funeral home, the manager met me in his office.
“That case had special authorization,” he admitted when I pressed him.
“The family requested no viewing. The paperwork was signed.”
“The deceased’s aunt. A woman named Marlene.
She said the coroner owed her.”
“Did anyone confirm identity?”
“There was an accident report,” he said.
“But was there a body?” I asked plainly.
He went silent.
That was answer enough.
That evening, I drove to Marlene’s house. She opened the door and attempted a smile.
“You forged documents,” I said. “You signed off on a closed casket without verification.
You submitted paperwork to the county.”
Her composure slipped immediately. “We were protecting him.”
“You falsified a death, Marlene. Don’t you see the problem with that?”
“He would’ve gone to prison,” she snapped.
“And now?” I asked.
“Now he will. And so will you.”
Marlene’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Katie, please.
Katie, you wouldn’t.”
“I already spoke to the county clerk,” I replied, “and the funeral director. This is insurance fraud, identity fraud, and filing false documents with the state.”
Her face drained of color.
“You involved me in a crime without my knowledge,” I continued. “Collectors came after me because legally, I was his widow.
I lost my home, and you left me to clean up the financial wreckage while he started over.”
