Chapter 8 - The Ultimate Betrayal
The entire funeral home fell completely silent, save for Emma’s ragged, wheezing breaths.
Eleanor held her daughter tight. "Someone call an ambulance!" she screamed to the crowd. "My baby is alive!"
Emma weakly raised her trembling right hand. Her fingers were stiff, her nails scratched and broken from desperately clawing at the silk lid in the absolute pitch-black darkness. She pointed her shaking finger directly at the man in the black tuxedo.
"He... he did it," Emma whispered. Her voice was incredibly hoarse, incredibly faint, but in the dead silence of the room, it carried like a gunshot.
David’s face drained of all remaining color.
"I heard him," Emma choked out, tears finally spilling from her eyes. The pure psychological torture she had endured was unimaginable. "I was awake... on the autopsy table. I couldn't move. I couldn't blink. But I heard him... talking to his mistress on the phone. He said... he said the poison worked perfectly. He said he was going to inherit everything."
The room erupted. The elite guests, who had been offering David their deepest condolences just twenty minutes ago, now stared at him with pure, unfiltered disgust and murderous outrage.
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"Emma, you're confused! The lack of oxygen is making you hallucinate!" David screamed frantically, backing toward the heavy exit doors. He looked like a cornered rat. "It's a medical anomaly! I didn't do anything!"
👉 David thought he could run, but the matriarch's revenge was going to be swift, brutal, and utterly satisfying.
