The Fourth Urn

About This Novel

At the funeral, my urn was held in my wife's hands. She cried so hard that all the guests shed tears. But I know that she is whispering in a voice that only I can hear: "Don't worry, your insurance money... Will be received soon." And I, a soul that should have died, is now attached to a strange man who is offering condolences. --The perfect alibi is about to be launched.

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