Chapter 3: The Man Who Wanted the Funeral to Continue
The chapel doors opened as two emergency medical technicians hurried inside carrying a stretcher and a medical bag.
“Where is the patient?”” one called.
“Here!”” Arthur shouted.
“She's inside the coffin!””
The technicians dropped beside Emily immediately. One checked her breathing while the other assessed her responsiveness, speaking calmly as he worked.
“Ma'am, my name is Daniel. Can you hear me?””
Emily blinked.
“Good. Keep looking at me. We're going to help you.””
The second technician examined the broken lid.
“We need more room. Can someone bring a cutting tool?””
“I'll get it,” a mourner offered.
“No,” the funeral director interrupted.
“The coffin must remain intact until the appropriate authorities arrive.””
Daniel looked up sharply.
“Sir, this woman needs medical attention. Move back.””
“But the property—”
“I said move back.””
The director retreated, his hands raised in reluctant surrender.
Arthur knelt beside the coffin, unable to stop staring at his wife's face.
“Is she going to be okay?”” he asked.
Daniel didn't promise anything.
“We're assessing her now. She needs to get out of here as quickly and safely as possible.””
Arthur nodded, swallowing hard.
“Emily, can you hear that? They're going to help you.””
Her eyes stayed fixed on him.
He tried to smile, but his mouth trembled.
“It's me, baby. I'm right here.””
Noah crouched on the other side of the coffin.
“Mommy, I'm not leaving.””
The second technician carefully removed the remaining loose pieces of wood. Together, the two men widened the opening enough to assess Emily's position without forcing her to move unnecessarily.
The gray tape remained across her mouth.
Daniel looked at Arthur.
“Do you know who placed this on her?””
Arthur's expression hardened.
“No.””
“Do you know how she ended up here?””
“No!””
The answer came out louder than he intended.
He lowered his voice.
“I'm sorry. I don't know anything. I was told she died.””
Daniel nodded.
“That's all right. We need to focus on her immediate condition first.””
A mourner brought scissors from the funeral director's supply cabinet. Daniel used them carefully to remove the tape without pulling at Emily's skin.
Emily gasped.
Her lips trembled.
For the first time since the coffin opened, she could breathe without obstruction around her mouth.
Arthur reached for her hand.
“Emily?””
She tried to speak, but only a faint rasp emerged.
Daniel leaned toward her.
“Don't force your voice. Take your time.””
Emily swallowed painfully.
Her eyes searched the faces above her.
Then she whispered a single word.
“Noah.””
The boy immediately moved closer.
“I'm here, Mommy.””
Emily's fingers curled around his.
“Good boy,” she breathed.
Noah burst into tears.
Arthur pressed a hand over his mouth, fighting to keep himself together.
“You're alive,” he whispered.
“You're really alive.””
Emily turned toward him.
For one fragile moment, her face softened.
Then her gaze shifted over his shoulder.
Her expression changed so suddenly that Arthur felt his stomach tighten.
She tried to sit up.
Daniel gently stopped her.
“Easy. Don't move yet.””
Emily gripped Arthur's wrist.
Her nails dug into his skin.
“Arthur,” she rasped.
“I'm here.””
“Don't let him—”
Her voice failed.
Arthur leaned closer.
“Don't let who?””
Emily's eyes moved toward the director.
The man stood near the chapel's side entrance, clutching his leather folder against his chest. Two mourners had gathered beside him, apparently asking questions he wasn't answering.
Arthur rose slowly.
“Sir.””
The director looked up.
Arthur held out the authorization paper he'd recovered from the floor.
“Come here.””
“I need to coordinate with the authorities.””
“Come here.””
Something in Arthur's voice made the nearby conversations stop.
The director reluctantly approached.
Arthur held the paper between them.
“My wife is alive. Someone put tape over her mouth. Someone sealed her inside this coffin. And you want to talk about preserving property.””
“I never said I wanted to—”
“You told everyone she was dead.””
“I was following the information provided to me.””
“By whom?””
The director glanced toward the doors.
It was quick.
Barely a flicker of movement.
But Arthur saw it.
So did Noah.
The boy stepped away from his mother's hand and pointed at the director.
“He's lying.””
The man stiffened.
“Excuse me?””
“You keep looking at the door,” Noah said.
“You did it before, too.””
Arthur turned toward his son.
“Before when?””
Noah hesitated.
The director immediately seized the opportunity.
“The child is traumatized. We shouldn't treat anything he says as reliable evidence.””
Arthur stepped closer.
“Stop talking about my son.””
“I'm simply saying—”
“I said stop.””
The director pressed his lips together.
A phone rang somewhere near the front row.
Nobody answered it.
Then another phone began vibrating.
The funeral director's.
Arthur looked down at the device in the man's hand.
“Who's calling you?””
“No one you need to concern yourself with.””
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“Answer it.””
The director declined the call.
A second later, the phone vibrated again.
He stared at the screen, and for the first time, his carefully controlled expression completely collapsed.
Arthur reached for the device.
The director pulled it away.
“Don't touch that.””
“Then show me who's calling.””
“Arthur, you need to calm down.””
“My wife nearly died in your coffin!””
The director stepped backward.
Around them, mourners began lifting their own phones. Some were recording the argument. Others were calling relatives or emergency services.
Daniel glanced up from Emily.
“Sir, give us space.””
Arthur forced himself to turn away.
Emily was watching him.
Her hand remained locked around his wrist.
He returned to her side and crouched.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“I'm not going anywhere.””
Emily shook her head weakly.
“Arthur…”
“What is it?””
Her lips trembled.
“He knows.””
Arthur's chest tightened.
“Who knows?””
She tried to lift her head, but Daniel gently encouraged her to remain still.
Emily ignored him, staring desperately at her husband.
“He knows I was…”
Her voice broke.
Arthur leaned closer.
“You were what?””
Emily's eyes filled with terror.
Across the chapel, the director's phone rang for a third time.
This time, he answered.
He turned his back to the crowd, but the chapel was quiet enough for Arthur to hear his first words.
“She opened her eyes.””
The director froze.
Arthur slowly lifted his head.
The man continued in a whisper.
“No. The boy broke the lid before we could—”
He stopped speaking.
His gaze met Arthur's.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then the director lowered the phone.
Arthur stood.
“What did you just say?””
The director's face drained of color.
“I was speaking to my office.””
“You said she opened her eyes.””
“I meant—”
“You said the boy broke the lid before you could do something.””
“I was referring to the damage.””
Arthur took one step toward him.
“What were you going to do?””
The director backed into a row of white chairs.
“Nothing. I was trying to manage the situation.””
“No,” Arthur said.
“You were waiting for something.””
The director's fingers tightened around his phone.
Behind Arthur, Emily suddenly began pulling at his sleeve.
He turned back.
She was crying again, struggling to remain conscious.
“Arthur,” she whispered.
He took her hand.
“I'm listening.””
Her gaze flicked toward Noah, then toward the chapel doors.
“Don't trust…”
She couldn't finish.
A sudden commotion erupted near the entrance as a uniformed officer hurried inside. Behind him stood a woman in a charcoal suit, carrying a slim black case.
The officer surveyed the broken coffin, the gathered mourners, and the trembling funeral director.
“Who called this in?””
Several people pointed toward Arthur.
Before he could answer, the woman in the charcoal suit stepped forward.
“My name is Detective Renee Carter,” she announced.
“Nobody leaves this chapel until we establish exactly what happened here.””
The director immediately approached her.
“Detective, thank goodness. There's been a terrible misunderstanding.””
Carter looked at the broken coffin.
Then at Emily, who was still clutching Arthur's wrist.
Finally, she turned toward the funeral director.
“Sir,” she said, “I need you to explain why the woman you certified as ready for burial is still alive.””
He opened his mouth.
No words came out.
Carter extended her hand.
“Give me your phone.””
The director stared at her.
Then, slowly, he looked toward Arthur.
May you like
And Arthur realized the man wasn't afraid of being arrested.
He was afraid of what might happen when the detective saw the name on his screen.
