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\u201cOh, those pies! She\u2019d send you over with slices for us, proud as could be. \u2018Emerald helped with this one,\u2019 she\u2019d always say. \u2018She has the perfect touch with the cinnamon.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried making one last week,\u201d I admitted, my voice catching. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t the same. I picked up the phone to ask her what I\u2019d done wrong, and then\u2026 the heart attack\u2026 the ambulance arrived and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, honey.\u201d Mrs. Anderson pulled me into a tight hug. \u201cShe knew how much you loved her. That\u2019s what matters. And look at all these people here\u2026 she touched so many lives.\u201d<\/p>\n
The funeral home was indeed crowded, filled with friends and neighbors sharing stories in hushed voices. I spotted my mother, Victoria, standing off to the side, checking her phone. She hadn\u2019t shed a tear all day.<\/p>\n
As Mrs. Anderson and I were talking, I saw my mother approach the casket. She glanced around furtively before leaning over it, her manicured hand slipping something inside. It looked like a small package.<\/p>\n
When she straightened, her eyes darted around the room before she walked away, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you see that?\u201d I whispered, my heart suddenly racing.<\/p>\n