They dressed her in lavender. They laid her in a white coffin. The doctors had given up. The millionaire’s daughter was declared dead. But as the funeral began, a poor boy stepped forward. The maid’s son, mocked, shoved aside, told to respect the dead—until his small voice shattered the silence.
“She’s not gone.”
What happened next stopped the funeral, and left the mother screaming through her tears.
“Don’t stand so close,” one of the suited men muttered, shoving the boy back with a stiff hand. “This isn’t for you.”
The boy, no older than nine, clenched his fists at his sides. His overalls were faded blue, a black shirt beneath them. His curly hair was uncombed, his dark eyes burned—not with fear, but with pain.
“She was my friend,” he whispered.
The small white coffin before him felt like a cruel trick. Inside lay the millionaire’s only daughter, dressed in a lavender gown, a single white flower resting on……Read Full Story Here……………..
