"You left something in my husband's casket."
Then I walked back to the chapel.
Susan was near the back, talking to two women from Greg's office. Tissue in her hand, eyes red, like she was the grieving widow in some alternate universe.
When she saw me coming, her expression flickered. Just for a second. Guilt.
I stopped right in front of her. "You left something in my husband's casket."
Susan blinked. "What?"
"I watched you do it on camera. Don't lie to me."
"Who are the kids, Susan?"
"I… I just wanted to say goodbye," she whispered.
"Then you could've done it like everyone else. You hid it under his hands. Why?"
People around us were listening. I could feel it.
Susan's chin trembled. "I didn't mean for you to find it."
I pulled the note from my purse and held it up. "Who are the kids, Susan?"
For a moment, I thought she'd faint. Then she gave a tiny nod.
"He didn't want you to see them."
"They're his," she said. "They're Greg's kids."
A buzz went through the people nearby. Someone gasped.
"You're saying my husband has children with you?" I asked.
She swallowed. "Two. A boy and a girl."
