I looked at the writing.
My blood ran cold.
Because I recognized it.
It was Michael’s handwriting.
Only five words had been written.
After the funeral, we collect.
I stared at the sentence.
Then I looked up.
“When is the funeral?”
The officer answered quietly.
“It was yesterday.”
I slowly leaned back.
Yesterday.
The day they buried an empty coffin.
The day Michael stood beside Ashley and smiled.
The day he believed he had finally won.
The officer watched me carefully.
“There’s one more thing you should know.”
“What?”
“Your husband has already filed the insurance claim.”
I said nothing.
“He believes you’re dead.”
For the first time since the cliff, I smiled.
It wasn’t a happy smile.
It was the smile of someone who had finally understood the advantage
she had.
Michael thought I was gone.
He thought the money was coming.
He thought the evidence was buried with me.
He thought there was no one left to contradict his story.
He was wrong.
Very wrong.
I looked down at my stomach.
My son moved beneath my hand.
A tiny kick.
A reminder.
We had survived.
And now Michael was going to learn exactly what it meant to make a mother fight for her child.
But before I could tell the officer what I wanted to do next, his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“That’s impossible.”
“What happened?”
He lowered the phone slowly.
“The funeral home called.”
My heart began pounding.
“They found something inside the coffin.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“A woman’s wedding ring.”
