Chapter 1 - THE SOUND INSIDE THE COFFIN
The axe hit the white coffin so hard the funeral room screamed with it.
Wood burst across the marble floor.
A woman in black dropped her purse. Someone shouted, "She's insane!"
Rosa ignored them.
She yanked the axe free and swung again.
CRACK.
The polished lid split near the center.
Grant Holloway charged toward her from the front row, grief twisting into fury.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Rosa's bright orange maid uniform looked almost violent against the sea of black clothes.
"Don't stop me!"
"That's my wife!"
"I know!"
Grant grabbed the handle.
Rosa held on.
For one wild second, they fought over the axe beside Vivian Holloway's coffin while fifty mourners backed away in horror.
Then Rosa let go.
She dropped to her knees and tore at the broken wood with both hands.
"Help me."
"Rosa, stop."
The room slowly quieted.
"Listen."
Nothing.
Grant's breathing was ragged.
Then—
Tap.
Tiny.
Almost impossible.
A woman near the flowers gasped.
Another sound came from inside.
Tap. Tap.
Grant's face lost all color.
Rosa shoved both hands into the split wood.
"Vivian!"
A faint scraping answered.
Grant fell beside her.
Together, they ripped away enough of the lid to reach the inner lining.
Vivian's face appeared beneath white satin.
Pale.
Still.
Beautiful in the terrible way funeral homes make people beautiful.
Grant touched her cheek.
"Vivian?"
Her eyelids did not move.
Rosa pressed two fingers to her neck.
Nothing.
Then she moved them.
Waited.
Her eyes widened.
"Pulse."
"What?"
"She's got a pulse!"
The funeral director stumbled forward.
"That's impossible. She was pronounced—"
Rosa screamed, "CALL 911!"
The room exploded.
Grant pulled at the lid until his palms bled.
Paramedics arrived six minutes later and pushed everyone back.
One of them checked Vivian's airway.
Another connected a monitor.
A slow green rhythm appeared.
Grant made a broken sound.
The paramedic looked up.
"She's alive."
Everyone went silent.
Then Rosa noticed something beneath Vivian's left sleeve.
May you like
A fresh needle mark.
And beside the coffin, the funeral director quietly started backing toward the exit.
