Zane stood frozen, unable to move.
Death certificate?
Zane grabbed Martinez by his uniform. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken? What do you mean, a death certificate?”
Martinez looked taken aback. “There’s no mistake. The documents are all here.”
“Zane, your wife’s death was registered on Bainbridge Island four days ago. It’s already been processed.”
“And your wife had a lawyer. The lawyer handled the entire filing.”
His wife, who had been standing right in front of him just days ago, was… dead.
Zane’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the hard, cold chair.
