The hand trembled in the air like it was fighting its way back from another world.

The man reached forward instinctively, then stopped halfway, horror flooding his face.

Inside the coffin, another weak breath rose from the darkness.

The maid dropped the crowbar and reached in first.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

Her fingers found the woman’s hand.

It clutched back.

Hard.

A broken sound escaped the man’s throat.

“Emily…”

Slowly, painfully, Emily’s face came into view beneath the shattered lid.

Her skin was ghost-pale.

Her lips were dry.

But she was alive.

The mourners stood frozen, too stunned to move.

The man leaned closer, tears in his eyes now.

“Oh my God…”

Emily’s eyelids fluttered.

Then opened.

And when she saw him, fear hit her face so sharply it made the maid pull back.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper.

But everyone heard it.

The man froze.

“Emily, it’s me.”

Her breathing quickened.

“No…”

The maid looked between them, confused and frightened.

Emily’s trembling fingers tightened around the maid’s hand.

Then she forced the words out.

“You knew.”

The chapel went silent all over again.

The man’s face drained.

“What?”

Tears slid from the corners of Emily’s eyes.

“I woke up.”

Her voice was weak, shredded.

“I couldn’t move… but I heard you.”

The man shook his head too quickly.

“No. Emily, don’t—”

She stared at him with terror and heartbreak mixed together.

“You said not to call anyone back.”

The maid’s mouth fell open.

The man stepped back on his knees.

Emily’s breath shuddered.

“You heard my heartbeat…”

Her eyes never left his.

“And you told them to close the coffin anyway.”