The Last Illusion

After losing her husband, Emma downloads an app promising comfort from grief. Soon, the line between solace and obsession blurs, pulling her deeper into a digital afterlife more sinister than death...

The funeral home smelled faintly of lilies and antiseptic. Death dressed up to feel civilized. Yet beneath the flowers, Emma sensed only emptiness. It felt like the lilies themselves were masks hiding a truth everyone silently refused to acknowledge.

She stood by the entrance, distant, eyes fixed on Nathan’s coffin. It was a polished mahogany box far too elegant for his taste. Voices whispered politely behind her, muffled coughs and rustling coats punctuating the air with a steady hum of sympathy.

"She’s handling it remarkably well," someone said nearby.

Emma straightened her back slightly, more out of habit than genuine strength.

If only they knew, how close I am to breaking.

She’d chosen a black dress Nathan once complimented, knowing others would see strength in her careful appearance. Even though beneath the stiff fabric she felt numb, barely contained, like brittle glass one tap away from shattering. She shifted her weight, legs heavy, rooted in place since the moment she'd received t…