Her Mother Demanded the Coffin Be Opened… What They Found Inside Left Everyone Shaking (2 of 4)

The coffin barely moved.

“Again!” he ordered. They strained, sweat beading on their brows, muscles trembling. But it was useless. Even eight men together could hardly raise it.

“It feels like it’s filled with bricks,” one gasped, dropping his hands. Another muttered, “Feels like more than one body in there.”

Guests shifted uneasily, whispering among themselves. “Something’s wrong.” “I’ve never seen this happen.”

An undertaker, pale with confusion, shook his head. “I’ve carried men twice her size. This weight—it doesn’t make sense.”

And then Emily’s mother stepped forward. Dressed in black, her eyes hollowed by grief, she stared hard at the coffin.

“Open it,” she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs.

The funeral director hesitated. “Are you certain?”

“I said open it.”

The workers glanced at one another before finally obeying. They unscrewed the lid, the sound of metal scraping wood echoing in the stunned silence. When the coffin opened, the crowd leaned forward as one.

Emily lay there in her pale dress, her hands folded neatly around a bouquet of white lilies. She looked serene, almost sleeping. At first, nothing seemed amiss—until someone noticed the coffin’s sides were taller than usual. A false bottom.