Chapter 7 - The Burial That Never Happened
Teresa had already moved the guests to the cemetery chapel when Julián arrived.
Rain had begun to fall lightly.
The air smelled like wet stone and lilies.
Camila’s casket rested beneath a white canopy while the priest stood waiting with his prayer book open.
Teresa saw Julián walking toward them with Dr. Méndez, Mateo, and two police officers behind him.
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
Then grief returned like a mask lowered over glass.
“My son,” she called, voice trembling. “You are unwell.”
Julián stopped beside the casket.
“No burial.”
Gasps moved through the family.
Teresa pressed a hand to her chest.
“Julián, please. Your wife deserves peace.”
“She deserves truth.”
Rodrigo stood near the back, now wearing a different jacket.
Black.
No missing button.
But the scratch on his neck remained.
Mateo saw it and took one step toward him.
An officer lifted a hand.
“Not here.”
Dr. Méndez spoke to the funeral director.
“I am filing a medical objection to burial based on irregular admission, missing intake records, and evidence inconsistent with reported cause of death.”
The priest closed his book.
Teresa turned cold.
“You have no authority here.”
Ana held up her hospital ID.
“I have medical responsibility for a patient whose death certificate may have been falsified.”
The word falsified struck the crowd hard.
Teresa looked at Julián.
“You are letting strangers desecrate your wife.”
Julián stepped closer to his mother.
“You slapped me in front of her coffin because I opened her hand.”
Her face stiffened.
“She was your wife. Not evidence.”
“She was both after someone hurt her.”
Rodrigo snapped, “This is insane.”
Julián turned to him.
“Then give the police your jacket from that night.”
Rodrigo’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t have it.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s a button, Julián.”
Julián pulled the navy button from his pocket.
“No. It’s the last thing Camila took from the man who stopped her from warning me.”
Teresa’s eyes flashed.
“Enough.”
One of the officers stepped forward.
“Mrs. Vargas, we need to pause proceedings pending review.”
“This is a private family matter.”
“No,” Julián said. “You made it private because crime hates witnesses.”
The funeral director, now sweating visibly, stepped away from the casket.
The officers placed a hold on the burial.
Camila’s body would be transferred for independent examination.
Teresa’s control cracked in front of the entire family.
Whispers rose.
Questions.
Fear.
Shame.
Rodrigo started backing toward the parking area.
Mateo noticed.
So did Julián.
So did the police.
“Rodrigo Vargas?” one officer called.
Rodrigo froze.
Julián looked at him.
His voice was quiet enough that only those near the canopy heard.
“She scratched you, didn’t she?”
Rodrigo said nothing.
The officer repeated, “Sir, stay where you are.”
May you like
And in that silence, Camila’s clenched hand seemed louder than any scream.
👉 The burial was stopped, but Rodrigo’s missing jacket had already been thrown away — until a scared hospital nurse remembered where it went.
