Chapter 2: The Coffin Was Never Meant to Be Opened
Margaret drove like a woman running from a fire.
She ignored two red lights, took a narrow side street, and finally pulled into the underground garage of an old apartment building.
"Get out," she ordered.
I remained frozen in the passenger seat.
"Margaret, I need answers.""
"You'll get them when we're somewhere safe.""
"Safe from whom? Your son? My husband? The doctor?""
She slammed her palm against the steering wheel.
"Emily, I am trying to keep you alive!""
Her voice cracked.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear in her face.
We took the elevator to the seventh floor.
Margaret unlocked an apartment that smelled of dust and lavender.
It was small, with faded wallpaper and furniture covered in white sheets.
"Whose apartment is this?"" I asked.
"My sister's. She moved to Florida last year.""
Margaret locked the door and checked the windows.
Then she placed the photograph on the dining table.
"Sit down.""
I didn't.
"Tell me everything.""
She removed her coat.
"Daniel started behaving strangely about two months ago. He received calls late at night. He began keeping documents in a safe I didn't know existed. When I asked him what was happening, he told me there were people trying to take his company.""
"Why didn't he tell me?""
"Because he believed someone close to him was involved.""
I stared at the photograph again.
"Who is the woman?""
Margaret looked away.
"Her name is Vanessa Reed.""
"Is she his mistress?""
Margaret didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
I felt something sharp move through my chest.
"How long?""
"I don't know.""
"Eight years of marriage, and you knew?""
"I suspected.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Wonderful. So everyone knew except the wife.""
Margaret pulled out a chair.
"Vanessa worked for Daniel's company. She was his financial director. But three months ago, I found out she had been using a second identity.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means she wasn't just working for him.""
Margaret opened her handbag and removed several printed pages.
They were bank statements.
Large transfers appeared repeatedly.
$250,000.
$400,000.
$175,000.
All sent from one of Daniel's business accounts to a company called Northbridge Medical Holdings.
I looked at the dates.
The latest transfer was made two days before Daniel collapsed.
"Why was he paying a medical company?""
"That's what he was investigating.""
I turned another page.
There was a signature at the bottom.
Daniel's.
But something looked wrong.
His signature usually ended with a long, sweeping line.
This one stopped abruptly.
"These are forged," I whispered.
Margaret nodded.
"Daniel thought Richard was stealing from the company. He was preparing to report him.""
"Richard Lawson?""
"Yes.""
My mind returned to the funeral.
Richard's speech.
His handkerchief.
His promise to protect everything Daniel had built.
Suddenly, I remembered something.
At the hospital, Richard had been standing beside Dr. Hale when I signed the funeral authorization.
He had insisted on helping.
I had been too devastated to question it.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"" I asked.
Margaret sat down heavily.
"Because the first officer I spoke to told me there was no evidence of wrongdoing. Then someone broke into my house and left a photograph of Daniel's grave on my pillow.""
I felt sick.
"Who?""
"I don't know. But they wanted me to understand that they were watching.""
She reached into her bag again.
This time, she pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
It was a copy of Daniel's medical report.
The document listed the time of death as 9:42 a.m.
But the ambulance records showed something different.
According to the paramedic's report, Daniel had been transported to the hospital at 9:31 a.m. with a detectable pulse.
"Wait," I said.
I read the lines again.
"His heart was beating?""
"According to this report, yes.""
"Then how could Dr. Hale declare him dead eleven minutes later?""
Margaret shook her head.
"I think he used a drug that slowed Daniel's vital signs so dramatically that the equipment couldn't detect them.""
"That's possible?""
"I don't know. But Daniel had been researching experimental cardiac suppression treatments.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why?""
Margaret stared at me.
"Because he was afraid someone was trying to kill him.""
I walked toward the window.
Outside, cars moved through the wet street.
I suddenly remembered the last night Daniel had been home.
He had stood in our bedroom doorway, watching me fold laundry.
"Emily," he had said, "if anything happens to me, don't believe everything you hear.""
I had laughed.
"You're being dramatic.""
He hadn't smiled.
"Promise me.""
I had kissed his cheek.
"I promise.""
Now those words felt like a warning I had ignored.
My phone vibrated again.
Another unknown number.
This time, there was an audio attachment.
I pressed play.
At first, there was only static.
Then I heard a man's voice.
Daniel's voice.
"Emily... if you're hearing this, I made a mistake.""
I stopped breathing.
His voice sounded weak and distant.
"Don't trust the doctor. Don't trust Richard. And whatever you do, don't let my mother take you to the police.""
I looked at Margaret.
She had gone completely pale.
The recording continued.
"There's something you need to know about the night I collapsed. The person who gave me the medication was...""
The audio ended.
I replayed it.
Nothing.
The final sentence had been cut off.
Margaret reached for my phone.
"Where did you get that?""
"It was sent to me.""
"Emily, delete it.""
"Why?""
"Because whoever sent that knows you're here.""
I pulled my phone away.
"Why did Daniel tell me not to trust you?""
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"I was hoping he wouldn't say that.""
"What does it mean?""
She stood and walked toward a cabinet.
After moving several books, she revealed a small metal safe.
She entered a code.
Inside was a single USB drive.
"Daniel gave this to me two weeks before he collapsed," she said.
"He told me to open it only if he disappeared.""
I took it.
"What is on it?""
"Proof.""
"Proof of what?""
Margaret looked directly into my eyes.
"Proof that the person who arranged his burial was not Richard Lawson.""
I swallowed.
"Then who?""
She hesitated.
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from downstairs.
Someone had entered the building.
Margaret quickly switched off the lights.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
One step.
Then another.
A key scraped against the apartment door.
Margaret grabbed my arm.
"Emily, hide.""
The door handle began to turn.
Then a familiar male voice spoke from the other side.
"Mother, I know you're in there.""
My blood turned to ice.
May you like
It was Dr. Victor Hale.
And he was holding a key.
