Chapter 7 - The Awakening
A collective, deafening scream erupted from the five hundred wealthy guests. Women covered their mouths in horror; men stumbled backward over the beige chairs.
Lying inside the plush white silk of the casket was Emma.
She was incredibly pale, dressed in a beautiful white lace gown, her hands folded neatly over her chest by the mortician. But she wasn't a corpse.
Emma’s chest was heaving with rapid, shallow, desperate breaths. Her lips were parted, gasping for the oxygen she had been completely deprived of. Her beautiful brown eyes were fluttering open, blinded by the sudden, harsh light of the chandeliers.
"Emma!" Eleanor screamed, bursting into tears of pure, unadulterated joy and terror. She leaned into the coffin, frantically pulling her daughter’s fragile, freezing body into her arms.
Lily crawled across the red carpet, clutching the edge of the altar, sobbing with profound relief. She hadn't been crazy. She had saved her best friend's life.
Emma was incredibly weak. The heavy neurotoxin was still coursing through her veins, leaving her muscles virtually paralyzed. But as her mother held her, Emma’s slow eye movement shifted.
She looked past her mother's silver jewelry. She looked past the crying maid in the orange and white uniform.
Emma’s dark eyes locked directly onto David.
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David was backed against the wall, shaking violently, his black tuxedo suddenly feeling like a straightjacket. He knew exactly what was about to happen.
👉 Emma couldn't move her body, but her voice was about to deliver a death sentence to the man who tried to bury her.
