Something is just Wrong.

The scent of whatever disinfectant or whatever that smells can be called, hung heavily in the air of the small, sterile room. Detective Grey stood with his back against the wall, his face a mask of resolve as he watched the families gather around. It had been three long weeks since Price Wood's tragic death, and today, the morgue was more crowded than usual.

The heavy burden of grief was so heavy that he was almost sure that it he raised his hands, he'll touch it.

Grey cleared his throat, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “The autopsy is complete,” he said, his tone professional. “Price’s body can be released to the family now. You’re free to arrange the funeral.”

Lily sat in a plastic chair, her hands trembling as she clutched a crumpled tissue. Her face was pale, eyes red and swollen from endless tears. Her pregnancy has amplified every emotion, every tear, every heartbreak. She sobbed openly now, unable to control herself. Even if she has tried to stop