Chapter 11
The crematorium operator let out a terrified yell, stumbling backward and falling hard onto the concrete floor.
“She’s alive!” the second worker screamed, scrambling away toward the emergency wall phone.
Jenna stepped out from behind the doorframe of the preparation room, holding a sleek black tablet in her hand.
Beside her stood four armed officers from the Philadelphia Police Homicide Division and two federal agents.
“Nora!” Jenna cried, rushing over to help me climb out of the satin-lined box.
I swung my legs over the side of the coffin, taking a deep, real breath of cold air into my lungs.
The paralytic drug had finally worn off completely, leaving my muscles tingling with fresh, surging blood flow.
“Is it done?” I asked, my voice hoarse and raw from hours of silence.
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“David just delivered the evidence to the prosecutor,” Jenna confirmed, wrapping a warm wool coat around my shoulders.
“Grant and Tessa are trapped in the office on Market Street right now.”
