At my father’s funeral, a strange woman handed me a package. The old camcorder inside held a chilling secret about my mother’s death.
Part 1
At my father’s funeral, a woman handed me a plain brown package.
“It’s important that you open this immediately.”
I scanned her face.
I had never seen her before in my life.
Her eyes locked onto mine with a burning intensity.
She turned on her heel and slipped through the crowd.
None of our relatives or friends even seemed to notice her departure.
Tightening my fingers around the rough paper, I backed out of the crowded reception hall and stepped into the quiet corridor.
As the muted sounds of mourning faded behind the heavy wooden doors, I tore the tape off the package.
Inside sat an old, scuffed camcorder and a yellow sticky note.
“Press play.”
A cold chill traced its way up my spine.
I flipped the screen open.
The battery indicator blinked red.
I pressed the play button.
The tiny screen flickered to life.
Grainy footage showed the back of a man.
His hand gripped a woman by the back of her neck.
He forced her forward across a concrete bridge.
She thrashed against his grip.
Her hands clawed at his arm.
He didn’t even flinch.
He hoisted her up by the waist.
With one violent shove, he pushed her over the rusted railing.
She vanished into the dark water below.
The man casually brushed off his jacket.
He turned and stared directly up into the surveillance lens.
My breath hitched in my throat.
I recognized that face immediately.
It was my uncle David.
The timestamp in the corner read fifteen years ago.
He looked almost exactly the same as he did sitting in the reception hall right now.
My thumb hit the rewind button.
I paused the video right before the man shoved her.
I zoomed in on the woman’s face.
My stomach plummeted into an endless void.
The camera slipped from my trembling hands and bounced onto the carpet.
It was my mother.
My entire life, I believed she died in a tragic car accident.
My father took that same belief to his grave just three days ago.
I scooped the camera off the floor and shoved it deep into the package.
I spun around to head back into the hall.
Uncle David stood three feet away.
His eyes were fixed directly on me.
“Are you okay, pal?”
I forced the corners of my mouth upward.
I gave a single nod.
He took a slow step closer.
“Who was that woman that handed you that package?”
He tilted his head.
“For the life of me, I know her, but I can’t place from where.”
His gaze dropped to my hands.
“Did she tell you her name?”
I squeezed the package against my ribs.
My heart slammed against my ribcage.
“I have no idea who she was.”
I kept my voice deadpan.
“She just said it was a gift of condolences for Dad.”
His eyes lingered on the torn brown paper.
“Have you opened it?”
I shook my head.
“Nope.”
His jaw tightened just a fraction.
“Are you lying to me?”
I let out a short, hollow laugh.
“Why would I lie to you?”
He stepped right into my personal space.
“Because I can see that you’ve already torn the tape.”
I stepped to the side.
“Whatever, Uncle David.”
I gestured toward the doors.
“I’ll see you back inside.”
He threw his arm across the doorway.
A dark, unfamiliar shadow passed over his face.
“I need to see what’s inside now.”
The doors swung open.
My cousin Craig and his wife stepped out into the hall.
Craig looked between us.
“Everything all right, you two?”
Uncle David instantly flashed his trademark, charming smile.
“We’re fine.”
He patted my shoulder with a heavy hand.
“Obviously, everyone’s a little edgy today.”
He turned his attention back to Craig.
“We’ll see you back inside.”
I seized the opening and darted toward my cousin.
Uncle David’s fingers closed around the collar of my shirt.
He jerked me backward.
Instinct took over.
I shoved both of my hands hard into his chest.
He stumbled backward over the edge of the carpet.
He crashed hard onto the floor.
Craig rushed forward.
“What the hell’s your problem?”
Craig hauled David up by his arm.
The commotion drew a dozen other relatives out into the hallway.
Craig pointed an accusing finger at me.
He told everyone exactly what I had just done to our grieving uncle.
Disgust washed over the faces of my family members.
They crowded around David to check his head.
The rage boiled over the edge of my control.
“Listen up, everyone.”
My voice echoed off the walls.
“I have some awful news that I just discovered.”
I pointed straight at the man they were comforting.
“Uncle David is a liar and a murderer.”
Gasps erupted through the corridor.
“Here’s the proof.”
I ripped the camcorder out of the package to show them the screen.
David lunged across the distance.
He snatched the device from my hands.
He slammed it onto the hardwood floor.
The plastic casing shattered into pieces.
He brought the heel of his dress shoe down on the electronics.
A sickening crunch echoed in the silence.
I dove for the pieces.
He ground his foot into the floor.
The memory card splintered under his weight.
The evidence was completely gone.
I stood up and screamed the truth about my mother to the crowd.
They looked at me like I was a complete monster.
Craig told me I was sick in the head.
They claimed my grief had driven me insane.
Not a single person in that room believed me, and as my uncle wiped fake tears from his eyes, I realized I was entirely alone with a murderer.
