The Call They Thought Had Died With Him

Rain pounded the chapel windows while I stood beside my father’s coffin holding a single red rose. My borrowed black dress smelled faintly of lavender, and my brothers looked at me as if I didn’t belong there.

Grant leaned close and whispered, “Dad left everything to us. You’ll leave here with nothing.” Owen laughed and suggested I apply for a job at the funeral home.

I carefully placed the rose on the coffin. “That’s strange,” I replied. “Because Dad called me three hours before he died.”

For the first time that morning, Grant’s smile faltered-

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