Chapter 1: Wake Up, Daddy!
“WAKE UP, DADDY! PLEASE! I’LL BE GOOD! JUST WAKE UP!””
Four-year-old Ellie Bennett's scream tore through the grand funeral chapel in Atlanta.
Before anyone could stop her, she had scrambled over the polished wooden edge of her father's open casket and thrown herself across his chest.
Hundreds of mourners watched in stunned silence.
Some covered their mouths. Others lowered their eyes. A few began to cry.
But Ellie didn't notice any of them.
All she could see was her daddy.
Nathan Bennett lay motionless beneath a white satin lining, dressed in the navy suit Claire had chosen for him. His dark hair had been carefully combed. His hands rested across his stomach. A small white rose had been placed between his fingers.
He looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Ellie pressed her cheek against his chest.
“Daddy?”” she whispered.
Nothing.
She lifted her head and touched his face with both hands.
“Daddy, it's me. Ellie.””
Still nothing.
Behind her, Claire Bennett pushed through the crowd, nearly tripping over a row of chairs.
“Ellie! Baby, come here!””
She reached for her daughter, but Ellie grabbed her father's jacket.
“No!””
“Sweetheart, you can't climb in there.””
“Daddy's sleeping!””
Claire's face crumpled.
“Oh, baby…”
“Then wake him up!””
Ellie wrapped both arms around Nathan's neck.
“Daddy promised he'd take me to the aquarium. He promised! He can't go to sleep now!””
Claire tried to lift her.
Ellie screamed louder.
“NO! I WANT MY DADDY!””
Margaret Bennett, Nathan's sixty-eight-year-old mother, stood near the front row with a black lace handkerchief pressed against her mouth.
She had already cried so much that morning her eyes were swollen.
Seeing her granddaughter lying across her son's body nearly broke what little strength she had left.
“Claire,” Margaret whispered.
“Let her say goodbye.””
Claire looked at her.
“Margaret, she's hurting herself.””
“Please. Just a minute.””
The funeral director, Thomas Reed, stepped closer.
“Mrs. Bennett, we really should—”
“Not yet,” Margaret interrupted.
“Please.””
Thomas stopped.
He had directed funerals for twenty-seven years. He had seen grieving husbands collapse, mothers faint, and children cry until they could barely breathe.
But he had never seen a child refuse to leave a parent's casket like this.
Ellie lifted Nathan's left hand.
It was cold.
She rubbed it between her small palms.
“Daddy, your hands are cold.””
Claire covered her mouth.
Ellie pressed his hand against her chest.
“Feel my heart, Daddy. It's going really fast.””
A soft sob escaped someone in the back.
Then Ellie did something that made Claire's stomach tighten.
She leaned close to her father's ear and whispered something only he was supposed to hear.
“Mommy cries when you're gone.””
Claire froze.
“Ellie…”
“And Grandma cries in the kitchen.””
Margaret lowered her head.
“I don't know what to do, Daddy,” Ellie continued.
“Mommy doesn't sing anymore.””
Claire's knees nearly gave out.
For the past six days, she had barely managed to sleep. She had spent nights sitting beside Ellie's bed, listening to her daughter ask when Daddy was coming home.
She had told Ellie that Daddy had gone to heaven.
She had told her that he loved her.
She had told her that people sometimes left this world even when everyone wanted them to stay.
But she had never found an answer to the one question Ellie kept asking.
Why?
Why had Daddy gone to work on Monday morning and never come home?
Why had the police come to their house?
Why had Mommy cried on the bathroom floor?
And why was Daddy lying in a box?
“Baby, please,” Claire whispered.
“Let's go sit with Grandma.””
Ellie shook her head.
“No.””
“Ellie.””
“Daddy hasn't hugged me.””
Claire closed her eyes.
That was when Ellie suddenly stopped crying.
The change was so abrupt that several people noticed.
She stared down at Nathan's hand.
Her little fingers loosened.
Then she tilted her head.
“Mommy?””
Claire wiped her cheeks.
“Yes, sweetheart?””
Ellie looked frightened.
“Daddy moved.””
For a second, Claire couldn't process the words.
“What?””
“His finger.””
“Ellie, honey, Daddy isn't—”
Nathan's index finger twitched.
Once.
Small enough that Claire almost convinced herself she hadn't seen it.
Then it happened again.
More clearly.
Nathan's finger moved against the white satin.
Claire stopped breathing.
She grabbed his wrist.
“THOMAS!””
The funeral director rushed forward.
“What is it?””
“CALL 911!””
Her voice cracked through the chapel.
“NOW! CALL 911! HE MOVED!””
Every conversation stopped.
A man in the third row stood so quickly that his chair toppled backward.
Someone screamed.
Margaret dropped her handbag.
“Nathan?””
She stumbled toward the casket.
“NATHAN?””
Claire pressed two fingers against his wrist.
Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't feel anything.
“Come on. Come on, Nathan.””
Thomas pulled out his phone.
“I'm calling!””
Ellie clutched her father's arm.
“Daddy?””
Then Nathan's fingers slowly curled.
One.
Two.
Three.
His hand closed around Ellie's tiny fingers.
The chapel erupted.
Margaret screamed her son's name.
A woman fainted near the entrance.
Thomas stumbled backward, phone pressed to his ear.
Claire stared at the hand holding her daughter's.
“No…”
She leaned closer.
“Nathan?””
His face remained motionless.
His eyes stayed closed.
But his fingers tightened.
Ellie screamed.
“MOMMY!””
Claire grabbed Nathan's wrist again.
“Sir, I need you to answer me! Can you hear me?””
Nothing.
She leaned over his face.
“Nathan! It's Claire! Can you hear me?””
A faint movement disturbed his lips.
Claire's heart slammed against her ribs.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please don't do this to me.””
Thomas shouted into the phone.
“Yes! An adult male! He's in an open casket!
We saw movement! No, I'm not joking! Please hurry!””
Margaret gripped the edge of the casket.
“My son isn't dead.””
Her voice trembled.
“My son isn't dead!””
Ellie began crying again.
But this time, she wasn't asking her father to wake up.
She was begging him not to go back to sleep.
“Daddy, hold my hand! Don't let go!””
Claire pressed her cheek close to Nathan's mouth.
She felt something.
A faint brush of air.
She pulled back so fast that her shoulder struck the casket.
“Oh, my God.””
“What?”” Margaret cried.
Claire stared at her.
“I felt something.””
Thomas looked up from his phone.
“What did you feel?””
“His breath.””
Nobody moved.
Claire leaned closer again.
A faint, uneven breath touched her cheek.
She screamed.
“HE'S BREATHING!””
The chapel became chaos.
Thomas shouted at everyone to move away. Two relatives began clearing the aisle. Margaret collapsed into a chair, sobbing and praying at the same time.
Claire refused to release Nathan's hand.
She kept talking.
“Stay with me, Nathan. You hear me? You stay with me.””
A man approached from the second row.
It was Daniel Price, Nathan's business partner.
He had been standing silently throughout the service, wearing an expensive charcoal suit and a silver watch.
Until that moment, he had looked devastated.
Now he looked terrified.
“Claire,” he said, moving toward her.
“You need to step away. Let the professionals handle this.””
Claire turned.
“Don't tell me what to do.””
“I'm just trying to help.””
“Then move!””
Daniel glanced at Nathan's hand.
His expression changed.
It lasted less than a second.
But Claire saw it.
It wasn't surprise.
It wasn't relief.
It was fear.
Pure, unmistakable fear.
“Daniel?”” she whispered.
He quickly looked away.
The emergency dispatcher was still on the phone with Thomas.
“Sir, do not attempt to move the patient. Follow the instructions of emergency personnel.””
Thomas nodded frantically.
“Understood.””
Claire looked back at her husband.
Nathan's fingers were still wrapped around Ellie's hand.
Then his thumb moved.
Slowly.
Almost deliberately.
It brushed across her daughter's knuckles.
Ellie stopped crying.
“Daddy?””
Nathan's lips parted.
A sound escaped.
Barely audible.
Claire bent down.
“What? Nathan, what are you saying?””
His mouth moved again.
And this time, she heard something.
Two broken words.
“Don't… trust…”
His head shifted slightly.
Claire leaned closer.
“Don't trust who?””
Nathan's fingers tightened around Ellie's hand.
His lips trembled.
Then he whispered one name.
“Daniel…”
Claire went completely still.
Across the chapel, Daniel Price had already started backing toward the exit.
And for the first time since Nathan's supposed death, Claire understood something far more frightening than the possibility that her husband was alive.
May you like
Someone might have wanted him dead.
And that someone was standing in the room.
