I barely noticed him.
Until I smelled his cologne.
It was unmistakable.
My heart began pounding.
Slowly, I turned.
And there he was.
Karl.
Alive.
His face was pale, and he looked exhausted, but there was no doubt about who he was.
“Megan,” he whispered, “please don’t scream.”
I stared at him.
“This isn’t possible.”
“Listen to me.”
“I watched you die!”
He leaned closer.
“Keep your voice down. I’ll explain everything.”
My hands trembled.
“I buried you, Karl!”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What are you talking about?”
He glanced toward the other passengers.
“My family cut me off years ago because I refused to join their business.”
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I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“What does that have to do with your funeral?”
“Before our wedding, my parents offered me a deal.”
