Chapter 3

The next day, Marcus returns. The estate is empty now, stripped of its loyal heart. Only Leo and I remain.

Marcus finds him in the family chapel, sitting in the front pew, staring at the empty space where my casket had been.

"I'm done playing, Leo," Marcus says, his voice dangerously calm. Izzy is with him, clinging to his arm, her face a perfect portrait of concerned grief.

"Where is she?"

"I told you," Leo says, his voice stronger than before. "She's in the casket. In the ground."

"You really are a good little actor," Marcus sneers. "Izzy is dying. Your sister is the only one who can save her. Does her petty grudge against me mean more than a woman's life?"

He's so convinced of his own narrative. He truly believes he is the hero in this story, trying to save his lover from my selfish spite.

"Open it," Marcus barks to the two state troopers he brought with him.

"Sir?" one of them asks, hesitant. "The family plot is consecrated ground."

"I am the governor of this state," Marcus roars. "This is my property. That is my wife's grave. Dig it up. Now."

They obey. The sound of shovels hitting dirt is a violation. It takes them less than an hour. They hoist the heavy mahogany casket out of the earth and place it on the grass.

"Open it," Marcus commands again.

With a groan of protesting metal, the lid is pried open.

The smell hits first, a putrid, sweet stench of advanced decomposition. Inside lies a body, but it's barely human. The flesh is bloated, discolored, sloughing off the bone. It's a vision from a nightmare.

Marcus recoils, his face twisting in disgust. "What is this? What trick is this?"

A man in a suit steps forward, a medical examiner I don't recognize. He peers into the casket.

"Governor, it appears the body was infected with a rare, flesh-eating bacteria," he says, his voice smooth and practiced. "It's extremely aggressive. It would make identification impossible without dental records. She must have procured a random corpse, a Jane Doe, to stage her death."

It's a lie. A clean, clinical lie, paid for by Izzy. The body is mine. The bacteria is just a story to explain away the decay, to make it seem like this couldn't possibly be the pristine Elara Vance.

I want to scream at the M.E., to tear the lies from his throat. But I am nothing. A whisper on the wind.

"A random corpse," Marcus repeats, the words dripping with venom. He turns his blazing eyes on Leo. "She would do that. She would defile a grave just to get at me."