When the lid creaked open, the entire room seemed to stop breathing. Linda’s eyes widened. Her face went pale. “This—this isn’t my son,” she gasped.

The boy inside was wearing Ethan’s clothes, the same blue hoodie she’d bought him last Christmas. But the scar on his right eyebrow — Ethan’s childhood mark — was missing. The hair color was slightly off, and even the shape of the jaw felt wrong. Linda’s breath quickened as she stepped back, nearly dropping to her knees. “Where’s my son?!” she cried, her voice echoing through the chapel.

Family members rushed to her side. The mortician stammered, “Mrs. Parker, please—there must be some mistake.”