The church was hushed with grief—until we saw the man in the casket wasn’t my father. The suit was his, but the face was a stranger’s.
Whispers turned to panic. Where was my father? Who was this man? The funeral director called it a mistake, but it felt intentional.
As investigators arrived, I stayed close to Luna, our dog, who had sensed the wrongness from the start. In that moment, I knew this wasn’t just a funeral—it was the beginning of a mystery.
I silently vowed to uncover the truth about my father’s disappearance.
