Astoria remained by the coffin, her presence a reminder of the deep connection she shared with my husband. Her actions had sparked a search for the truth, and for that, I was grateful. She had done what none of us had the strength or insight to do.

In the days that followed, investigations were launched, and secrets began to unravel. It was discovered that my husband’s death was the result of a rare and undetectable poison, one that mimicked the symptoms of a natural passing. The culprit, driven by greed and betrayal, was someone we had all trusted.