Chapter 2
The chapel exploded into chaos.
People stood.
Chairs scraped.
Someone knocked over a vase of lilies, and water ran across the floor like a spill of light.
Madison clung to Ethan and sobbed, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”
I climbed halfway into the casket and wrapped one arm around her.
“Don’t move him,” I said, though my own hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold her.
Ethan’s eyes remained closed.
His lips were pale.
But his hand was in Madison’s hair.
Not resting.
Holding.
The pastor shouted for someone to call an ambulance.
My sister, Laura, ran to the doors.
Vivian grabbed my arm.
“Claire, stop this.”
I stared at her.
“Stop what?”
“You’re upsetting everyone.”
“My husband just moved.”
Her face tightened.
“It could be a muscle reaction.”
Grant stepped beside her.
“Exactly. These things happen after death.”
The funeral director, Mr. Lowell, turned sharply.
“No, they do not happen like that.”
Grant glared at him.
“Stay out of family matters.”
Mr. Lowell looked at Ethan’s hand.
Then at me.
His face had gone white.
“Mrs. Walker,” he said quietly, “I need to tell you something.”
Before he could finish, paramedics rushed in.
They checked Ethan’s pulse.
One paramedic froze.
“I have a pulse.”
The room went silent again.
A second paramedic leaned over.
“Weak, but present. Get the stretcher.”
I made a sound I didn’t recognize.
Not a sob.
Not a scream.
Something in between.
Madison tried to crawl fully across Ethan’s chest.
“No, don’t take him.”
I pulled her gently back.
“They’re helping Daddy.”
Grant moved toward the casket again.
“This is impossible. The death certificate—”
The paramedic cut him off.
“Sir, back up.”
Vivian whispered, “Grant.”
I heard fear in her voice.
Not grief.
Fear.
And suddenly, the past forty-eight hours replayed in my mind.
Ethan collapsing in his home office.
Grant arriving before the ambulance.
Vivian telling me not to go in because I shouldn’t see him like that.
Dr. Harlan, Ethan’s private physician and Vivian’s oldest friend, signing the death certificate with strange speed.
The funeral arrangements already chosen.
The closed conversations.
The way Grant kept asking where Ethan kept the company access codes.
I turned toward Mr. Lowell.
“What were you going to say?”
He swallowed.
“Your mother-in-law instructed us not to embalm him.”
Vivian snapped, “Because it was against my son’s wishes.”
Mr. Lowell shook his head.
“No. She said the body had already been medically prepared.”
My skin went cold.
“Prepared by who?”
He looked at Vivian.
“Dr. Harlan.”
The paramedics lifted Ethan carefully from the casket.
Madison screamed when his hand slipped from her hair.
I held her back while my heart tore in half.
“I’m coming with him,” I said.
Grant stepped in front of me.
“You need to stay with Madison.”
Laura appeared at my side.
“I have Madison.”
Grant’s eyes flashed.
“Claire, think. If Ethan is alive, the press will—”
“The press?”
I stared at him.
“My husband is breathing, and you’re thinking about the press?”
Vivian reached for Madison.
“I’ll take the child.”
Madison buried her face against my hip.
“No.”
I pulled her away.
“You will not touch her.”
Vivian’s mouth tightened.
“Claire, don’t be dramatic.”
I looked at Laura.
“Take Madison to my car. Lock the doors. Don’t let anyone near her.”
Laura nodded.
Grant’s face darkened.
“Claire.”
I pointed at him.
“Stay away from my daughter.”
For the first time in twelve years of knowing Grant, I saw him hesitate.
The ambulance doors slammed outside.
I climbed in beside Ethan.
His face looked gray under the harsh light.
A paramedic pushed an oxygen mask over his mouth.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
Ethan’s fingers twitched.
I grabbed his hand.
“Ethan, it’s Claire. I’m here.”
His eyelids fluttered.
Barely.
Then his lips moved.
I leaned close.
“What?”
His voice was almost nothing.
“Madison…”
“She’s safe.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
May you like
Then he whispered one more word.
“Poison.”
