CHAPTER 3
Sirens wailed in the distance, cutting through the stormy afternoon air as local police cruisers and an emergency ambulance careened up the driveway.
Eight-year-old Lucas stood planted firmly beside the open casket, his hazel eyes glaring with fierce, unyielding triumph at his wicked stepfather.
“You thought you could bury her alive while she was still sleeping from your poison,” Lucas shouted, his small voice carrying absolute authority.
Two armed Greenwich police officers leapt out of the lead cruiser, their heavy boots splashing through puddles as they rushed the lawn.
“Hold right there, Mr. Vance! Do not move an inch!” the lead detective commanded, resting his hand firmly on his holstered firearm.
The husband—Julian Vance—tried to force a pathetic, trembling smile, holding his hands up defensively while backing away from the open coffin.
“There has been a terrible medical mistake!” Julian stammered, his two-toned hair plastered to his forehead by the relentless rain. “I thought she passed away in her sleep!”
“You gave her the sleeping syrup from the silver cabinet last night, because she found out about your offshore accounts!” Lucas fired back instantly.
Elena’s best friend, standing nearby in a black dress, covered her mouth with trembling hands as the horrifying puzzle finally clicked into place.
The paramedics rushed past the stunned crowd with a portable medical stretcher, immediately lifting Elena out of the velvet-lined casket.
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Oxygen masks were strapped over her face, and intravenous lines were jammed into her veins as medical tech teams fought desperately to revive her fully.
Julian watched his diabolical plan disintegrate before his eyes, realizing that his freedom, his wealth, and his life were slipping away forever.
