I held my breath and shone my flashlight. Behind the tile was a dark hole. And in that hole, there was something…
My hands trembled.
I slipped my fingers into the hole and felt a rustling bag. My heart pounded in my temples. I slowly pulled it out.
An old plastic bag, yellowed with age, seemed harmless. But as soon as I opened it — I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming in terror. Inside were teeth.
Real human teeth. Many. Dozens, perhaps hundreds.
A shiver ran through me. I sank to the cold tiles, clutching the bag to my chest. In my mind, there was only one thought: this can’t be true…
I paced the room until I finally decided to go to my father-in-law.
Seeing the bag, he sighed heavily. “So you found them,” he said, tiredly. “What is this?!
— I screamed, though my voice betrayed my trembling. “Whose are they?!”
He lowered his eyes, remained silent for a long time, and then began speaking in a low voice:
“Your husband… he’s not who he seems. He took lives.
Then he burned the bodies… but teeth don’t burn. He pulled them out and hid them at home.”
I couldn’t believe it. My husband — a caring father, a reliable person.
But before me lay the evidence. “You knew?” I whispered. My father-in-law lifted his eyes.
In them, there was no relief, only fatigue and a shadow of guilt. “I kept silent… too long I kept silent. But now — you must decide for yourself what to do next.”
And at that moment, I realized: my life would never be the same again.
