After my wife Elizabeth’s fatal car accident, I was overwhelmed by grief, left to care for our two young daughters alone. At her funeral, an old fortune-teller approached me, saying, “Elizabeth won’t rest until justice is served.” Though skeptical, I paid her \$20 and was haunted by her words.
Searching through Elizabeth’s things, I found rental car receipts—strange since we had two cars. Her friend Sarah revealed Elizabeth rented a car while ours were in the shop, but the car was returned by Elizabeth’s sister, Karen. Suspicious, I involved the police.
The investigation uncovered tampered brakes and a forged life insurance policy naming Karen as beneficiary. Karen confessed to murdering Elizabeth for money.
Though justice was served, Elizabeth’s absence remained a void. Standing by her grave, a butterfly landed on the headstone—an unmistakable sign she was finally at peace. The fortune-teller’s eerie warning had led me to truth and closure, proving sometimes the hardest journeys bring the deepest healing.
