“Daniel helped.”
“Your cousin?”
He nodded.
“He arranged for performers to act as emergency responders. They believed they were participating in some kind of filmed event.”
I stared at him.
“And the doctor?”
“Daniel knew someone who owed him a favor.”
My stomach tightened.
“So the whole thing was staged?”
Karl nodded.
“Everything necessary to make people believe I’d died.”
By now, passengers around us had stopped pretending not to listen.
An elderly woman across the aisle leaned forward.
“Excuse me, but did this man just admit that he pretended to die at his own wedding?”
Karl turned sharply.
“This is a private conversation.”
The woman raised an eyebrow.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t be having it loudly on a crowded bus.”
A younger passenger behind us shook his head.
“His parents sound controlling, but that doesn’t justify what he did.”
Another man muttered that wealthy families could make people desperate.
