“He pushed her down the stairs! I saw it with my own eyes!”

The cemetery froze. The priest’s hand stopped mid-prayer. All eyes turned to Michael, who, after his outburst, fell silent again. Jason staggered, his face pale. Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. “The boy can talk!” someone gasped. “But he’s mute!” another exclaimed.

Clara, stunned, pulled her son close, tears streaming down her cheeks—not from grief, but from shock. Mrs. Carol, a neighbor, whispered to her husband that their daughter had recorded the entire funeral on her phone. “We need to give it to the police,” he replied.

Jason tried to recover. “He’s just a kid—he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Kids imagine things.” But as Clara confronted her brother, suspicion swept through the mourners like wildfire.