I met this woman for the first time at my brother's funeral.
My nominal sister-in-law, my brother's legal wife.
With just one look, I could tell she was the kind of woman that men like best.
She lowered her eyes, her eyes were black and blue, and she looked obviously haggard, but her skin tone was made whiter, and her beauty was even more beautiful than usual.
Delicate, pitiful, cute, and fragile.
A woman as pure as a lily.
On the night of the wake for my brother, my sister-in-law and I sat in the mourning hall.
The lights were dim and the candlelight flickered.
In the middle of the night, my sister-in-law nodded a little bit, thinking she was sleepy.
I told her that I would guard this place.
But she shook her head and leaned her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling my ears.
Her breathing was long and her arms were around my waist.
In the mourning hall, the portrait of my brother is solemn and solemn. He half-closed his eyes and seemed to be looking at us.
I thought about the cause of my brother's death.
My brother had been in good health since he was a child and had no illness or disaster. Why did he pass away due to a sudden illness less than half a year after getting married? Even he, who had the best relationship with his family, had no news at all before his death.
In the end, all we were given was a funeral invitation.
The woman on his shoulder was sleeping soundly and let out a murmur.
I suddenly thought with horror: Could it be my sister-in-law who killed my brother?
Concept: Love is a war