Chapter 4
Eleanor stumbled backward, her burgundy dress swishing violently against the carpeted floor as her composure completely disintegrated. "She was medically deceased! This is a medical anomaly! Shut the casket!"
"Shut your mouth," Christian growled, stepping immediately between his mother and his recovering wife. He gently lifted Clara into his arms, feeling her warm, trembling body pressed against his chest. She was real, she was alive, and she had been buried with a heartbeat.
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"Call an ambulance right now!" Christian roared at the funeral director, who was already fumbling frantically with his smartphone. "And lock the front doors. Nobody leaves this building until the state police arrive."
Clara buried her face in Christian’s navy blue shirt, weeping silent, exhausted tears of relief. The small brass key in Christian's pocket felt heavy, like a ticking bomb waiting to expose the entire horrifying conspiracy.
