Ashes of Paper

1
My husband died at sea, saving his one true love.
By the time they notified me, the fish had already had their fill. The officer on the line asked if I still wanted them to search for the body.
I waved it off dismissively. No need to waste public resources.
With the official death certificate in hand, I had my husband, Jerry, legally erased from existence. Then I called his lawyer. It was only after hanging up that I finally let myself laugh.
I popped a bottle of champagne that night. The inheritance I was supposed to split was now two-thirds mine. That was definitely worth a celebration.
...
My husband, Jerry, was dead.
He’d taken his old flame, Abby, out for a spin on his yacht. A freak wave slammed them into the rocks. He gave her the only life jacket, and the ocean took him instead.
When the Coast Guard called, they told me a shark had taken his head.
His headless torso had been floating on the surface. A few fishermen were about to haul it in when another shark appeared, clamped down on the body, and dragged it back into the deep. All they recovered were his wallet and his waterlogged phone.
As one of the city's most prominent entrepreneurs, everyone expected a grand search for Jerry's remains. The police asked if I wanted to call in a specialized recovery team.
"No," I said, my voice firm. "Let's not waste public resources."
An hour later, I was at the county records office with the death certificate. The clerk teared up when she saw his ID. "Mr. Hayes was such a good man. My condolences, Mrs. Hayes."
I had to bite back a smile.
She wasn't wrong. Jerry was a very good man. He was scheduled to sign our divorce papers in two days, right before signing a marriage license with Abby. Instead, he died, leaving me with a mountain of assets.
With no body to bury, I had to improvise for the cremation. I gathered all the useless paperwork from his corporate office, threw in his personal effects, and set it all ablaze. After it cooled, I scooped the ashes into a plastic bag, making a mental note to buy a proper urn tomorrow.
I met with the lawyer to liquidate Jerry's estate. Six companies, eight luxury cars, sixty-six commercial properties, and eighty-eight residential units, not to mention the gold bars in his bank vault and a sprawling portfolio of stocks and bonds.
I was busy counting the zeroes when the lawyer cleared his throat. "Mrs. Hayes, it appears your husband had already transferred the titles of two properties to a Ms. Abby Chen before his passing."
What?
I would not allow anyone to ruin my lucky numbers.
I turned to the lawyer, my voice turning to ice. "Anything he gave her… I can get it back, right?"
He was a million-dollar-a-year lawyer for a reason. He understood immediately.
That same day, data recovery specialists worked their magic on Jerry’s ruined phone. By the afternoon, a courier was delivering a legal notice to Abby’s doorstep.
She stormed into my house just as I was pouring a glass of champagne. She snatched the glass and lunged, aiming to douse me.
"Maya! What the hell is the meaning of this letter?"
I sidestepped neatly, and the champagne splashed harmlessly onto the floor.
"My handmade Italian rug," I mourned, looking at Abby with mock pain. "Don't worry, I'll add it to your bill."
"Who do you think you are, demanding these things from me? Jerry gave them to me! We were about to get married! They're mine!"
"Ms. Chen, are you unfamiliar with the law?" I scoffed. "Gifts given during our marriage are considered marital assets. I have every right to demand their return."
Her face went pale. She fumbled for her phone. "You didn't discuss this with Jerry, did you? I'm calling him right now. Just you wait, he's going to tear you apart."
At that, a real laugh escaped me. "Don't bother. The reception is terrible from inside a shark's stomach."
Her eyebrows twisted in fury. "You are a vile, poisonous woman, Maya! You were married to him! How can you say something so horrible?"
I let her finish her tirade before calmly pulling Jerry’s ID from my purse—cut cleanly in two. "Still don't believe me? Here's his ID. I just had it invalidated this morning."
Abby stared at the two halves, her disbelief warring with a creeping dread. "This is just another one of your tricks. I'm calling him, and you won't see a single penny of his money!"
She frantically dialed his number. A moment later, a phone started ringing from inside my handbag.
I pulled out Jerry's phone. The screen was lit up with a single word: 'Wifey.'
The color drained from Abby's face. "Why do you have his phone?"
"I told you. He's dead."
"Then where's the body?"
"Shark food," I said with a shrug. "Ms. Chen, have you forgotten? You two were on that yacht together. How is it that you're the only one who came back?"
"I thought… I thought…" Abby's legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. Her body started to tremble, her eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks like perfect, glistening pearls.
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, tears are just as bad for the rug.
After a few minutes of sobbing, she shot to her feet and made a beeline for the marble pillar in the living room. "Jerry, I'm coming with you!"
I jumped back, startled, and quickly dialed my phone. "911? Yes, there's a woman attempting suicide in my home."
The police arrived quickly. After getting the story, they escorted a hysterical Abby out. As they left, I couldn't help but call after her.
"Remember to return my property, or I'm suing!"
One of the officers shot me a look that clearly said, The woman is having a breakdown, and you're still harassing her?
I just shrugged. We were talking about millions of dollars. Who wouldn't be a little stressed?
A few days later, I started planning Jerry's funeral. He had so many wealthy relatives, and I'd spent years giving them generous wedding gifts and condolence money. Now, it was time to reap my harvest.
I sent out notifications to Jerry’s sprawling family tree and hired an 'expert' from the cemetery to help me pick a plot. He showed me all the prime locations with good "energy," but I wasn't interested. My eyes were drawn to a barren patch on the edge of the grounds, where nothing grew.
"Absolutely not," the expert said. "If he's buried there, his descendants will lead lives of hardship."
I clapped my hands together. "Perfect! It's got great feng shui and it's cheap. We'll take it."
Jerry and I never had children, so there were no descendants to worry about.
With the plot and a new urn secured, I hired a top-tier funeral service to give Jerry a send-off worthy of his status. During the service, I dabbed at my dry eyes with a tissue while discreetly eyeing the growing pile of condolence envelopes. Rich people, god love them. The envelopes were getting fatter and fatter, and it took all my willpower not to grin.
Just as the funeral was winding down, Abby appeared.
She was dressed in black, holding the hand of a small boy, maybe seven or eight years old. She walked directly to the front, facing Jerry's portrait. The already quiet room fell into a stunned silence. Every eye was on her.
"Leo," Abby's voice was frail, "kneel. This is your father."
As the boy started to bend his knees, I rushed forward and gently pulled him back up.
"Careful, little guy. You can't just go around calling any man 'Dad.'"
Abby's eyes flashed with anger. "He's my son with Jerry!"
"Oh," I said, my gaze dropping. "Is he now? That's what you say. But who can prove it?"
"We can."
Two figures appeared in the doorway. It was my mother- and father-in-law, whom I hadn't seen in years.
"You venomous bitch!" my mother-in-law shrieked the moment she saw me, lunging forward. "My son is dead, and you notify everyone but his own parents? What are you plotting?"
I wasn't about to let her claw my face off. I took a step back, and with a flick of my wrist, my hired bodyguards intercepted her.
From a safe distance, I said, "Mother, wasn't it you who told me never to contact you again unless I was dead?" She seemed to have forgotten the day she threw me out of her house with those exact words.
"You evil woman! You must have killed him! You'd do anything for his money, you shameless whore! You'll rot in hell for this!" She continued to struggle, desperate to get her hands on me, but my security was earning their pay, holding her tight.
"Mother, surely you know how Jerry died? He was with Chl—"
"Leo, come here! Say hello to Grandma and Grandpa!" Abby interrupted, pulling the boy toward them.
My mother-in-law instantly softened, crouching down to caress the boy's face. "So this is our grandson. He looks exactly like Jerry did as a boy." She looked up at Abby, her voice thick with emotion. "Abby, you poor dear. It must have been so difficult, raising him all by yourself for all these years."
The whole reunion scene was making me sick.
"Mother," I said, my voice dripping with false concern. "You can't just believe everything she says. We don't even know who this child's father is."
Abby bristled. "Are you suggesting Leo isn't Jerry's son? I'm telling you, he is! I was already pregnant when we broke up. I've been raising our son on my own ever since."
My mother-in-law chimed in, "Anyone can see this boy has Hayes blood! You, on the other hand, you barren woman! You can't even have a child of your own, so you attack those who can."
Emboldened by her new ally, Abby's confidence surged. She launched into a tearful monologue about the struggles of being a single mother and the discrimination she faced.
"Is that so?" I cut through her performance without mercy. "Funny, I heard you were married to someone else overseas. And that he left you because you cheated on him."
"You're lying!" Abby sobbed, turning back to my mother-in-law. "I can endure the insults, but it's Leo… a boy needs his father!"
My mother-in-law, completely won over, rounded on me. "You useless, barren woman, Maya! You've never been a mother, you wouldn't understand! I understand Abby's pain perfectly!"
I spoke softly, my voice carrying through the silent room. "Mother, even if this child really is Jerry's, you'd need proof, wouldn't you? Otherwise, anyone could walk in here with a child, claim it's your grandson, and you'd just accept it?"
"I have proof," Abby declared, her back straightening. "Jerry didn't believe Leo was his at first, either. So we did a paternity test. The report is still in the drawer of his office desk. Go see for yourself, Mother. Then you'll know."
Well, well. Things were escalating quickly. It wasn't just me; you could see the fascinated, hungry expressions on the faces of every guest. This funeral was turning into quite the spectacle.
Hearing this, my mother-in-law immediately ordered someone to go to Jerry's office and retrieve the report.
I tried to intervene again. "Mother, can't we deal with this after the funeral? It's not a good look, making a scene in front of all these people."
She snorted. "What's the matter, Maya? Afraid that if the test proves he's Jerry's son, he'll get a piece of the inheritance? Let me tell you something, you need to be more generous. If I were in your shoes, I would welcome Leo with open arms."
There was no stopping her.
After Abby gave specific instructions on where to find the document, one of the family assistants rushed off to Jerry's company headquarters. I took the opportunity to make a quick phone call myself.
He returned in less than half an hour.

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