Recently, my two grandkids and I went to the beach to have fun, as usual.
“GRANDMA, LOOK, THAT’S OUR MOM AND DAD!” my grandsons shouted, pointing toward a young couple sitting at a café nearby. My daughter and son-in-law had died two years ago. When I looked at the couple, I nearly fainted, for I immediately recognized my daughter. The man looked different but still bore a striking resemblance to her husband, Anthony.
I took my grandchildren by the hand and handed them over to my friend Ella, who was sunbathing nearby. I asked her to watch them for an hour, and she agreed. “Don’t go anywhere; you can sunbathe here,” I told my grandchildren.
Then, I immediately went back to our previous spot and started to spy on the couple. Soon, they stood up and left. I followed them to see where they lived, as it didn’t feel appropriate to approach them just yet.
Meanwhile, my daughter and son-in-law walked to a small cottage covered in grapevines and disappeared behind the fence. Without a second thought, I called the police. Then, I rang the doorbell.
Georgia was at the beach with her grandkids when they pointed to a café, shouting that the couple inside looked just like their parents, who had died two years ago. Grief had changed her, and now an anonymous letter claimed her daughter, Monica, and her husband, Stephan, weren’t really gone.
Later, a charge on Monica’s old credit card raised more questions. It had been a virtual card activated just before their death. Confused, Georgia called her friend Ella, then decided to investigate.
At the beach on Saturday, the kids spotted the couple from the café. Georgia followed them to a cottage, where Monica and Stephan, now using fake names, revealed they had staged their deaths to escape debt and loan sharks. They thought their kids would be better off without them.
The police arrived, and after a brief reunion with their children, Monica and Stephan were arrested. Georgia was torn between anger and sympathy. As she reflected on the situation, she wondered if calling the cops was the right thing to do.
“They’re not really gone,” the letter had said. It turned out to be true, but their return had a heavy cost.
