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A crowd had gathered, pointing at me and whispering to each other.
"No matter what, you shouldn’t deny a mother her son’s final moment," one person muttered.
"She clearly isn't cut out for a quiet life," another chimed in.
"Dressed so nice when her husband's dead? Suspicious," someone else speculated.
I ignored the murmurs,but Claire rushed to help Margaret up. "Ma'am, get up. Emily didn’t mean it," she said soothingly.
Margaret stood up and pointed an accusing finger at me. "You get out of here! From now on, there's no place for you in our family. You don't need to handle my son's funeral affairs either," she declared.
I smiled faintly. “Mom, I didn’t tell you because I thought you couldn’t bear it," I explained.
"But look—you’re fine," I continued. "Instead of seeing Nathan, you’re rolling on the ground. If someone didn't know any better, they might think he’s not dead."
Guilt flickered across Margaret and Claire’s faces. Margaret snapped,“I was just upset you’re cremating him. I’m going to see him now.”
I pointed to the van. "Go ahead and see him. He's up there."
Margaret glanced at it, and immediately became frantic,glaring and shouting, "Emily, that van’s for corpses! How dare you put my son in it? What if it ruins his luck?"
"Are you even human? My son was so good to you!" she accused.
I feigned confusion as I looked at her. "Mom, why? It’s a funeral van for dead people. Now that Nathan is dead, what's there to be ominous or not?”
Margaret’s face darkened, glaring at me, stunned as if I’d outsmarted her.
Claire stepped in. "Emily, don't blame your mom. She doesn't want you to cremate Nathan right away because in our hometown, custom says when someone dies, the body has to be kept at home for three days before the funeral can take place."
Margaret nodded eagerly. “Yes, get him down. You’re not as sensible as Claire.”
Fine, just wait three days. See who would be afraid.
However, it was impossible to bring Nathan back to our apartment. After all, no one would like to have a corpse around their neighborhood.
The only option was to temporarily place him in their rural hometown.
As if prepared in advance,a mourning tent was already up, and the courtyard was filled with tables and chairs set for hosting guests.
As the feast went on, the guests looked cheerful, as if there was no atmosphere of mourning.
Even more delighted, Margaret raised a glass, smiling with her wrinkled face beaming.
Claire approached me and said, "Emily, you’ve worked hard. Let me take over for you. You should go get some sleep."
I casually took some food and sat by Nathan. "No need. He's my husband. Why would you bother to watch over him?" I asked.
Claire’s face soured, glaring.
I waved her off. "Three days, right? I’m staying by him. No one will allowed to touch him."
Claire shot me a gloomy look, but she had no choice and went back to discuss with Margaret.
They huddled in a corner and started discussing what to do.
I followed and overheard Claire anxiously whispering, "What now? Three days without food—Nathan'll starve!"
Margaret's face twisted. "That wretch is ruining everything. Tonight, I'll slip her some sleeping pills and let her pass out," she muttered.
