Chapter 1 - THE MARK BENEATH THE SATIN
Dr. Mercer pulled the gray satin away from Rosalie’s mouth.
A red pressure mark crossed the corner of her lips.
Another dark line circled one wrist beneath the lace cuff of her burial dress.
Theodore saw it before Mercer could pull the fabric back into place.
“She was restrained.”
Mercer did not answer.
He pressed two fingers against Rosalie’s throat.
Her pulse was weak enough to disappear beneath the noise filling the conservatory.
“She needs oxygen.”
“You declared her dead.”
Theodore caught Mercer’s wrist.
“You signed the certificate.”
Sebastian stepped between them.
“Theo, let him work.”
“You still trust him?”
“No.”
Sebastian’s answer came without hesitation.
It was the first honest thing Theodore had heard from him all morning.
Mercer opened his medical bag.
Theodore knocked it from his hand.
Glass vials rolled across the marble floor.
One struck the base of the coffin and broke.
A bitter chemical smell rose from the clear liquid.
Rosalie’s eyelids fluttered.
Her fingers tightened weakly around Theodore’s knuckle.
“Don’t let him,” she whispered.
Theodore bent closer.
“Don’t let him do what?”
Her lips barely moved.
“Put me back.”
The words changed the room.
Several mourners stepped farther away from Mercer.
Sebastian looked toward the physician with an expression so cold that even Mercer noticed.
“Who put her inside the coffin?”
Mercer lifted both hands.
“The funeral staff prepared her.”
“After you declared her dead.”
“She had no detectable pulse.”
“You examined her for less than ten minutes.”
Eleanor moved toward Sebastian.
“This is not the moment for accusations.”
Theodore turned on her.
“She woke up inside a coffin.”
“This is exactly the moment.”
Sirens approached beyond the estate gates.
Theodore kept one hand around Rosalie’s.
He had spent six hours being told grief had made him irrational.
He had been told to stop asking why no hospital had examined her.
He had been told that cardiac failure ran in the family.
He had been told that opening the coffin would dishonor his sister.
Now Rosalie was breathing because he had refused to behave.
Paramedics entered with oxygen and a stretcher.
Mercer attempted to accompany them.
Sebastian blocked him.
“You are not touching her again.”
Mercer’s face hardened.
“I am still the family physician.”
“Not anymore.”
The paramedics lifted Rosalie from the coffin.
Theodore walked beside her.
Eleanor caught his arm.
“Theodore, you need to remain here.”
He pulled free.
“I remained quiet once.”
“I almost buried her.”
As the stretcher crossed the conservatory, Rosalie opened her eyes again.
Her gaze moved past Theodore.
It settled on Eleanor.
Fear sharpened her pale face.
Then she whispered one name.
“Mother.”
Eleanor stopped breathing.
May you like
Rosalie’s hand tightened around Theodore’s.
“She knew.”
