Richard waved off the crowd and called the Funeral Home.
He even arranged for an embalmer to restore George’s appearance.
He had killed his own father—so it was only fitting he handle the funeral.
And it was only right he see with his own eyes whose charred body this really was.
The funeral staff arrived quickly.
Richard told me to send over my father-in-law’s photo so they could restore the features as quickly as possible.
I didn’t hesitate and sent George’s photo straight to the Funeral Home.
As the staff were lifting the body onto the vehicle, a piece of metal clinked to the floor.
Following the sound, Richard’s eyes went wide with rage.
“Olivia! Have you no shame? How dare you steal my dad’s medal?”
He snatched up the Military Medal, veins bulging at his temples.
I ignored him, took the medal back, and handed it to the funeral staff, instructing them to pin it to George’s chest once his appearance was restored.
Furious, Richard slapped me across the face with his injured hand.
“Bitch! My dad treated you well, and you steal his most precious thing to give to your short-lived old man?”
“Who do you think your dad is, that he deserves to wear this?”