The little baby keeps pointing at his father’s coffin, what happens next is stunning

She lunged toward the coffin, reaching for the lid. But Henry suddenly rushed forward, grabbing her wrist. Clara, don’t be foolish, he growled, squeezing so tightly that pain shot through her arm.

Let me go, Henry. The entire church gasped in horror at Henry’s aggression, but he continued to shout. You can’t open it.

It’s disrespectful to the dead. Or, are you afraid of something? Clara’s words cut through Henry like a blade. He froze.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, Clara shoved him away and marched toward Samuel’s coffin. Matthew and James stepped forward as well. If Samuel is truly dead, we’ll see it for ourselves.

But if he isn’t? James’s voice was ice cold. Henry’s face turned ghostly pale. No, he screamed, but this time, no one listened.

Clara placed her hands on the coffin lid. Beside her, Lucy whispered through her tears. Papa! She took a deep breath.

She was ready to open it. But then… Slap! Henry’s hand shot out, striking Clara hard across the face. A collective gasp of horror echoed through the church.

Clara stumbled back, her head spinning from the impact. Matthew roared, lunging forward and grabbing Henry by the collar. What the hell is wrong with you? Henry struggled, but Matthew landed a brutal punch to his face, sending him crashing to the floor.

But Clara wasn’t focused on them anymore. Her hands remained on the coffin. And the knocking inside hadn’t stopped.

Thud! Thud! Tears streamed down Lucy’s cheeks. Mama! Papa is knocking! Clara clenched her jaw, her chest tightening with overwhelming tension. She didn’t care about Henry anymore.

She didn’t care about anyone’s objections. She was going to open the coffin. She had to know the truth.

Thud! Thud! The knocking continued, louder now, reverberating through the entire church. No one could deny it anymore. There was something inside that coffin.

Clara’s heart pounded like a war drum. She gripped the lid tightly, inhaling sharply. Open it! Her voice rang out, clear and resolute.

But just as she prepared to lift the lid, a voice screamed. No! Henry lunged forward like a rabid animal, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted with pure terror. No one opens the coffin! Leave Samuel alone! Smack! Matthew delivered another crushing punch, sending Henry sprawling onto the cold stone floor.

He writhed in pain, but he still shrieked like a madman. Don’t open it! Don’t open it! Clara trembled with rage. What are you so afraid of, Henry? I’m not afraid of anything! Henry screamed, thrashing like a man possessed.

You don’t understand! Don’t open it! Don’t open it! But Clara had no patience left. She turned to Matthew and James. They nodded.

Her hands shook, but her resolve was unshaken. She placed both hands firmly on the coffin lid. Beside her, Lucy sobbed, gripping her mother’s dress.

Mama! Papa is scared! Clara bit her lip hard. She was about to lift the lid. But! Clara, stop! A deep voice boomed from the entrance of the church.

Everyone turned. Father Manuel had arrived. His long black robes fluttered slightly as he stepped forward, his face grave and tense.

What are you all doing? Matthew quickly approached him. Father, something is wrong. There are noises coming from the coffin…