On the day of my mother’s funeral, I found myself in the river. I don’t know if I slipped in accidentally or if someone pushed me intentionally. But when I miraculously got out of the water, I overheard a conversation between my husband and my best friend.

On the day of my mother’s funeral, I found myself in the river. I don’t know if I slipped in accidentally or if someone pushed me intentionally. But when I miraculously pulled myself out of the water, I overheard a conversation between my husband and my best friend.

My mother’s funeral unfolded as if in a fog. I was offered words of comfort, held in my arms; someone placed food on the table for the funeral meal, someone wept softly. I could barely hear anything.

Towards evening, the guests began to leave. The house became stuffy and oppressive. I needed fresh air, so I quietly made my way to the river.

The bank was wet and slippery after the rain. I was at the water’s edge when suddenly, the ground gave way beneath my feet. I didn’t even have time to scream before, a second later, I was in the icy water.

The current was very strong. My dress immediately pulled me under, and my shoes prevented me from moving. For a few seconds, I swallowed water and thought I was going to drown.

But I had learned to swim for years in my youth. That saved me. Instinct was faster than fear. I turned sharply onto my back, braced myself with my legs, and swam to the reeds growing along the bank. My fingers found the sturdy reeds. I gripped them and, with some difficulty, managed to reach the bank.

I lay in the damp mud, trying to collect myself. That’s when I heard voices.

Someone appeared on the bank, right above my head. Cautiously, I looked up through the reeds and froze.

It was my husband and my best friend.

They were standing close to the edge, staring at the water.

“She won’t make it,” my husband said calmly. “Even strong swimmers would have trouble getting out.”

“What if she does?” my friend asked nervously.

“She won’t make it. Besides, everyone saw that she had a drink or two after the funeral. She slipped and fell in.” “

My friend smiled gently.

“Yes, no problem. I’ll say I saw her slip and fall. I’ll say I tried to help her, but it was too late.”

“Exactly,” my husband replied.

Suddenly, I realized that perhaps I hadn’t fallen into the river by accident.

My friend remained silent for a moment, then asked:

“So, what did you do about her mother’s death? Did you pay a bribe?”

My husband replied calmly, as if nothing had happened.

“Yes. Everything’s under control. Everyone believed the heart attack story.”

Something broke inside me.

My friend let out a small laugh.

“You promised to tell me everything once they were both dead. Now, explain to me why you wanted to get rid of them both at the same time.”

My husband remained silent for a few seconds.

“Because they knew a very important secret.”

“And what was it?”

I held my breath.

Then he said something that chilled me to the bone. That was why he had gotten rid of my mother… and that was why he wanted to get rid of me too.

Shortly before her death, my mother had called me and asked me to come immediately. When I arrived, she was sitting in the kitchen, in her bathrobe, holding an old photograph.

“Do you remember my brother?” she asked softly.

I only had a vague memory of him. A tall man who carried me on his shoulders. He died when I was six.

My mother remained silent for a moment, then said:

“They helped him die. And I remained silent for almost forty years.”

She explained that her brother worked in the county administration, in the land registry. In the late 1970s, several influential people illegally registered vast tracts of land in their names. The documents were backdated and falsified, with fake stamps and forged signatures.

He was the only one who knew the truth. He managed to obtain the genuine documents and hide them at my mother’s house.

A month later, he was found dead on the railway tracks. Everyone was told he had been drinking and had been hit by a train.

My mother remained silent for nearly forty years, out of fear. But recently, luxurious houses began to be built on those same plots. The owner of the construction site was the son of the man who had falsified the documents.

My mother said they were starting to watch her. Suspicious cars were appearing near the house.

“They’ve discovered the truth,” she said.

Before I left, my mother told me:

“I moved the documents. I won’t give you the address. Look at where we used to go when you were little. If you find them, hand them in to the court.”

At the time, I didn’t understand the danger. But my husband eventually discovered the existence of these documents. And now, after overhearing his conversation with my best friend, I finally understand the truth.

They killed my mother.

And just now, they tried to kill me too.