“Stop! She’s not dead!” she screamed.
Gasps tore through the room.
A composed man in a black suit—the lead mourner, calm until now—stormed forward in fury.
“What are you doing?!”
The maid yanked the axe free. Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold it. She pointed at the coffin.
“I heard her!”
No one moved. No one believed her.
Then she swung again.
The second blow split the lid wider. Splinters flew. One woman backed into the wall crying.
The maid dropped to her knees beside the coffin.
“She’s breathing!”
The lead mourner rushed forward to stop her—then froze.
From inside the coffin came a faint scrape.
Then the sound of trapped breath.
The entire room went dead silent.
Color drained from the man’s face.
“No…” he whispered.
The maid threw the axe aside and clawed the broken lid open with bare hands. Jagged wood tore under her fingers.
A hand twitched inside the opening.
The crowd gasped together.
She reached closer—then suddenly stopped.
Her eyes widened in horror.
On the hand inside the coffin was a gold ring.
Not the dead woman’s ring.
His ring.
The maid slowly looked up at the lead mourner.
He was already stepping backward in terror.
Watch Part 2 in the comments.
