The entire village gathered to say goodbye to Emily, a little girl taken too soon. The air was heavy with grief as the priest began the funeral service. But then, something strange happened—something no one could explain. A large black crow suddenly landed on Emily’s coffin, its deep violet eyes staring at the mourners. The crowd fell silent. In many old tales, crows are seen as messengers, and this one seemed to be carrying a secret.
Emily’s grandmother, a wise woman who knew the old legends, whispered, “Her soul isn’t at peace.” Then, as if answering her, the crow spoke—three eerie words: “The forest. The cabin. The truth.” Emily’s parents, Michael and Sarah, felt a chill run down their spines. That night, they went to their old cabin near the woods, guided by an unshakable feeling. Beneath a loose floorboard in Emily’s room, they found her diary. Her scribbled words revealed a horrifying truth—she had seen her uncle and the village doctor handling poisonous plants. Emily hadn’t just fallen ill; she had been poisoned.
The police were called, and an investigation uncovered something even worse—other village children had also been poisoned in secret experiments. At the trial, the crow returned, watching silently as justice was served. When the guilty were sentenced, the bird vanished, as if its job was done. Today, a young linden tree grows over Emily’s grave, a symbol of hope. And every year, on the anniversary of her death, a lone crow perches on its branches—a quiet reminder that truth and love never truly fade.
