I’m broken up because I lost my wife Elizabeth in a terrible car accident. When I was 35, I lost my wife all of a sudden and had to raise our two young girls, Emma and Sophie, by myself. Elizabeth’s departure felt like a hole that couldn’t be filled.
The funeral was a blur of tears and chaos, but I will always remember the sweet faces of our children. How could I explain to them something they couldn’t even imagine? Elizabeth’s family tried to help, but the sadness was too much for them to handle.
I saw an old woman watching me as I walked away from the cemetery. Her eyes were so sharp that they seemed to understand everything. She came up to me with a low, mysterious voice.
When she said, “I know your destiny,” it sent chills down my spine.
I was unsure at first, so I paused. But then she said something that stopped me in my tracks: “Lizabeth will not rest until justice is done.”
It didn’t make sense to pay twenty dollars for a fortune teller’s advice, but I gave her the crumpled bill because I needed answers badly. She told them the shocking truth: Elizabeth’s death was not an accident. Her grip was cold and strong.
Those words stuck with me that night. Is it possible? I started looking through Elizabeth’s things to find comfort and answers. I was interested in a stack of receipts from a car rental business.
We already had two cars, so why did Elizabeth rent one? I called Sarah, her best friend, who worked at the shop where our cars were being fixed.
Sarah told them that Elizabeth had rented a car so that she and the girls could go on a surprise trip to the beach. However, why the secret? Also, why did Karen, Elizabeth’s sister, return the hire car?
As my doubts grew, I called the rental company. The manager confirmed that Karen had returned the car, which had very low miles.
When I told the cops what I found, they started looking into it again. A few days later, they found that the hire car’s brakes had been messed with.
Quickly, the truth came out: Karen had faked Elizabeth’s name on a life insurance policy, making herself the beneficiary. The reason was greed.
Even though Karen’s arrest and statement helped, the pain stayed. As I thought about what the fortune teller said, I kept hearing that Elizabeth wouldn’t stop until justice was done.
After weeks, I stood by Elizabeth’s grave and saw a butterfly land on the headstone. “You can now rest,” I said in a whisper.
Even though it hurt, I finally knew the truth. It cost $20, but it was well worth it because it led me down a road I never would have thought of.
Even though I never saw the fortune teller again, her words stuck with me. They reminded me that the truth can be both bad and good.
