Chapter 5

Greyish-white powder cascaded onto the floor. The staff member beside me shrieked. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Families there to make arrangements for their loved ones scattered. Whispers erupted, accusing glares shot my way.

I stared at them, completely devoid of emotion, and then deliberately kicked the pile of ash on the floor. "Look closely. Does this even look like real ashes?"

"It does seem a little odd. Where are the bone fragments? The smaller pieces?" a woman murmured.

"Now that you mention it, you're right. Cremation can't pulverize every single bone into fine dust," another added.

I curled my lips into a cynical smile, then addressed the frantic staff member, my voice cutting through the murmurs. "Don't you think you owe me an explanation? The funeral home handed me fake ashes. Do you have any professional integrity at all? There are so many grieving families here. Are their loved ones' ashes fake too?"

The staff member, his face pale with panic, stammered, "Don't you dare accuse us of such things! We follow all procedures!"

I refused to back down. "Really? Veronica was declared dead at the hospital barely two hours ago. How is it humanly possible that her body has already been cremated? When did your facility become this efficient?"

The crowd erupted. "Are they insane? I thought we managed our arrangements quickly, but even that took a full day. How on earth was this cremated in two hours?" Under the barrage of questions, the staff member stammered, completely flustered and at a loss for words. He'd clearly never imagined I'd publicly scatter the 'ashes,' much less scrutinize the cremation timeline. He managed to mumble a few calming words to the agitated crowd before scurrying back inside.

A little while later, he returned, a forced, placating smile plastered across his face. "My apologies, we made a mistake. The ashes we gave you were someone else's. Your friend's remains are still in the process of cremation. Please bear with us a little longer."

Several hours later, the same staff member returned with another urn. And then, Dr. Evelyn Reed from the hospital suddenly appeared at the funeral home. "Before she passed, Veronica explicitly instructed me to ensure her child was placed in your care. This was her final wish. Also, here are her life savings—fifty thousand dollars. She truly hoped you would raise her child with love and care." Her words were delivered with such righteous conviction. Then she pressed the infant and a bank card into my arms. The surrounding onlookers, unaware of the full truth, were clearly moved, and many began to applaud me.

I glanced down at the infant in my arms and let out a soft, knowing chuckle. So, Veronica really wants me to raise her child, huh?

Then I'll give her exactly what she asked for.