The bright sunlight streaming into the modern living room felt like a cruel joke[cite: 1]. Daniel stood in his dark military dress uniform, his eyes fixed on the wooden casket positioned in the center of the room[cite: 1]. The polished mahogany gleamed under the soft ambient lights, but all he could see was the pale face of his young wife, Clara, resting inside[cite: 1]. He leaned over the edge of the casket, his gloved hand reaching out to wrap around her cold, lifeless fingers[cite: 1]. In the background, Clara’s mother, Evelyn, smoothed down her dark green dress with trembling hands, while her young stepbrother, Julian, stood near the sofa, nervously swirling the ice in his whiskey glass[cite: 1].
Daniel: I was supposed to protect you[cite: 1]. I was supposed to be here[cite: 1].
Evelyn: Daniel, please[cite: 1]. The funeral home director said we only have a few minutes before the service begins[cite: 1].
Daniel: She was twenty-six years old, Evelyn[cite: 1]. Healthy people don't just stop breathing in their sleep[cite: 1].
Julian: The coroner signed off on the report, man[cite: 1]. It was an undetected heart condition[cite: 1]. These things happen[cite: 1].
Daniel didn't answer[cite: 1]. He felt something small, hard, and metallic tucked tightly inside Clara's stiff palm[cite: 1]. Gently, his fingers opened her hand, revealing a tiny black micro USB flash drive hidden within her grip[cite: 1]. He lifted the drive into the sunlight, inspecting the small piece of metal with a cold, intense glare[cite: 1].
Evelyn: Daniel, leave her alone[cite: 1]. She was paranoid during her final weeks[cite: 1]. You know how her mind wandered[cite: 1].
Julian: What did she give you, Daniel[cite: 1]?
Daniel slowly slid the flash drive into his deep uniform pocket, his jaw clenching as he raised his eyes to meet theirs[cite: 1]. The grief in his chest instantly transformed into an icy, unyielding fury[cite: 1].
Daniel: Tell me how my wife died[cite: 1].