On the day of my mother’s funeral, I ended up in the river — I don’t know whether I slipped by accident or someone pushed me on purpose: but when I somehow managed to get out of the water, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my husband and my best friend 😢😨

My mother’s funeral passed like a blur. People said words of comfort, hugged me, someone placed memorial dishes on the table, someone cried quietly. I could barely hear anything.

By evening, the guests began to leave. The house felt suffocating and heavy. I needed some air, so I quietly walked down to the river.

The bank was wet and slippery after the rain. I was standing right at the edge of the water when suddenly the ground slipped from under my feet. I didn’t even have time to scream, and a second later I was in the icy water.

The current was very strong. My dress immediately dragged me down, and my shoes made it hard to move. For a few seconds I was just choking on water and thinking that I was about to drown.

But when I was younger, I had practiced swimming for many years. That saved me. My instinct reacted faster than my fear. I quickly rolled onto my back, pushed off with my legs, and swam toward the reeds growing along the bank. My fingers felt the stiff stalks. I grabbed them and with great effort managed to pull myself onto the shore.

I lay in the wet mud trying to catch my breath. That was when I heard voices.

Someone stepped to the edge of the cliff right above my head. I carefully looked up through the reeds and froze.

It was my husband and my best friend.

They stood very close to the edge of the bank and looked down at the water.

— She won’t make it out, — my husband said calmly. — Even experienced swimmers would hardly be able to get out here.

— What if she does? — my friend asked nervously.

— She won’t. Besides, everyone saw that she drank a little after the funeral. She slipped and fell.

My friend smirked quietly.

— Yes, that’s not a problem. I’ll say I saw her slip and fall. I’ll say I tried to help her but didn’t make it in time.

— Exactly, — my husband replied.

At that moment it suddenly dawned on me that I might not have fallen into the river by accident.

My friend was silent for a moment and then suddenly asked:

— Alright, but what did you do about her mother’s death? Did you pay a bribe?

My husband answered calmly, as if he were talking about something completely ordinary.

— Yes. Everything is under control. Everyone believed the heart attack version.

Something inside me collapsed.

My friend laughed quietly.

— You promised you’d tell everything when both of them were gone. Now explain why you had to get rid of both of them at once.

My husband was silent for a few seconds.

— Because they knew a very important secret.

— And what secret?

I stopped breathing.

And then he said something that sent an icy chill down my spine. That was why he got rid of my mother… and why he wanted to get rid of me too. 😨😱

The continuation of the story can be found in the first comment 👇👇

Shortly before her death, my mother called me and asked me to come urgently. When I arrived, she was sitting in the kitchen in her robe, holding an old photograph in her hands.

— Do you remember my brother? — she asked quietly.

I remembered him vaguely. A tall man who used to carry me on his shoulders. He died when I was six years old.

My mother was silent for a moment and then said:

— Someone helped him die. And I kept silent for almost forty years.

She told me that her brother worked in the district administration and handled land registration. In the late seventies, several influential people illegally registered large plots of land in their own names. The papers were prepared retroactively with forged stamps and signatures.

He was the only person who knew the truth. He managed to take the real documents and hide them with my mother.

A month later he was found dead on the railway tracks. Everyone was told that he had been drinking and was hit by a train.

My mother stayed silent about it for almost forty years because she was afraid. But recently expensive cottages began to be built on those same lands. The owner of the construction project turned out to be the son of the man who had once forged the documents.

My mother said that someone had started following her. Strange cars appeared near the house.

— They found out, — she said.

Before I left, my mother said:

— I hid the documents again. I won’t tell you the address. Look for them where we used to go often when you were little. When you find them — take them to court.

At that time I didn’t understand how dangerous it was. But somehow my husband found out about the documents. And now, listening to his conversation with my best friend, I finally understood the truth.

They killed my mother. And they just tried to kill me too.