Right after we laid my husband to rest, a woman I'd never seen before appeared at the cemetery gate. She cradled a baby in her arms, scanning the crowd until her eyes locked onto me. My heart raced as she approached, stopping just inches away. I could hardly breathe as she whispered, "Your husband was more than you knew." My mind spun with questions, and I dreaded what her next words would reveal.
As I tried to process her words, the woman stepped closer. "I'm Katie," she said softly, urgency lacing her voice. "I need to talk to you. It's important." Her eyes were earnest, and something about them made me feel uneasy. I glanced at her baby, who was gurgling quietly, then back to her face, hesitant. My friends whispered behind me, but I barely heard them. My mind was too busy racing ahead, imagining what she might say next.