The realization struck like a bolt of lightning. This was no ordinary death. Something was amiss, and Astoria, with her instinctual bond to my husband, sensed it before any of us could. Her loyalty and love for him had driven her to uncover the truth, even in the throes of her own grief.

Whispers turned to murmurs and then to questions. How could this have happened? Was it foul play? Had there been a mistake? In that moment, the funeral transformed into an investigation, the mourners now participants in a quest for justice.

As I stood there, the pieces began to fall into place. The suddenness of his death, the lack of a clear cause, and now this — it was all too much to ignore. My heart ached with a new kind of pain, one that mingled sorrow and anger into a potent mix.