I heard it.

Two soft taps.

At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

The conservatory was enormous, filled with towering arched windows, white marble floors, and rows of mourners dressed in black. White roses surrounded my sister’s ivory coffin, and a crystal chandelier hung overhead, sparkling in the cold daylight.

Someone was quietly reading the final prayer.

No one else reacted.

But I froze.

I leaned closer to the narrow glass panel on top of Rosalie’s coffin, pressing my ear against it.

Then I whispered the only words I could think of.

“She’s alive.”

My voice barely carried beyond the flowers.

A chair scraped loudly behind me.

“Theodore.”

Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence.

“Step away from her.”

He didn’t need to shout.

He never did.

He stood at the head of the coffin in his perfectly tailored ivory suit, his posture straight, his expression controlled. His expensive silver watch caught the light as his hand rested calmly at his side.

Only the tight muscle in his jaw betrayed that anything was wrong.

I turned toward him, gripping the black rubber mallet I’d taken from the maintenance cabinet only minutes earlier.

My hands were shaking so badly that the scratch across my knuckle had started bleeding again.

“I heard her breathing,” I said.

Whispers rippled through the room.

Not because they believed me.

Because they thought grief had finally pushed me over the edge.

Everyone looked at Sebastian.

Not me.

They’d been looking at him all morning.

He owned the estate.

He funded the funeral.

He had personally called every guest to explain that Rosalie’s death had been sudden… peaceful… private.

I was just the seventeen-year-old brother who hadn’t slept in nearly two days.

“Theodore,” Eleanor said softly.

She stood beside the coffin in a dark green velvet mourning dress, black gloves folded neatly in front of her.

“Put that down.”

I looked back at Rosalie.

She looked exactly the way everyone expected a dead woman to look.

Her long brown hair had been brushed carefully behind her shoulders.

The silver locket she never took off rested against her neck.

Her hands were folded neatly across her chest.

For one horrible second…

I almost believed them.

I heard Dr. Adrian Mercer repeating what he’d told me hours earlier.

Cardiac failure can be peaceful.

I heard Sebastian reminding everyone that the respectful thing now was to let her rest.

Then…

The gray satin ribbon beneath Rosalie’s lips moved.

Just slightly.

But I saw it.

I raised the mallet.

“Theodore…”

Sebastian stepped around the coffin.

“Don’t.”

I hesitated.

I wasn’t afraid of breaking the glass.

I was terrified of not breaking it.

I swung.

The rubber mallet slammed into the viewing panel with a heavy crack.

The glass fractured instantly, a web of cracks spreading across the center.

Several guests screamed.

No one came closer.

Sebastian stopped so suddenly one polished shoe slid across the marble floor.

Then…

Rosalie’s right hand twitched.

Eleanor gasped.

Her face lost every bit of color as one gloved hand flew to her mouth.

Sebastian slowly extended one hand toward me.

It wasn’t anger anymore.

It wasn’t even authority.

It looked almost like fear.

Then we all heard it.

Tap.

Another weak knock…

From inside the coffin.

Sebastian looked down.

Everything changed in his face.

I struck the damaged glass a second time, more carefully this time, widening the crack before dropping the mallet and tearing away the remaining shards with my jacket sleeve wrapped around my hand.

“Call an ambulance!” I shouted.

Nobody moved.

“CALL THEM!”

Finally phones appeared.

People started talking over one another.

Someone forgot the estate address halfway through the emergency call.

Someone else yelled that there was already a doctor in the room.

I looked toward Dr. Mercer.

He hadn’t moved.

He stood frozen beside a row of white lilies.

As fresh air rushed through the opening I’d made…

Rosalie’s eyelids fluttered.

Slowly…

Painfully…

Her eyes opened.

They wandered across the ceiling before finally finding the light pouring through the broken glass.

She took one shallow breath.

Then another.

Weakly, she lifted two trembling fingers toward me.

Sebastian couldn’t speak.

Neither could anyone else.

Her eyes finally found mine.

“Theo…”

The whisper was barely audible.

But I heard it.

My entire world shattered.

I don’t remember the guests running backward.

Later I saw the security footage.

People were screaming.

Flowers were falling.

Someone fainted near the entrance.

But in that moment…

I remembered only one thing.

Rosalie’s fingers.

They were ice cold when I reached through the broken opening.

Cold…

But alive.

She wrapped them weakly around my bleeding hand.

“I’m here,” I kept telling her.

“I’m here, Rosie.”

I said it again.

And again.

Even after Sebastian found the hidden catches and the coffin lid slowly lifted open.

Even after Dr. Mercer rushed forward.

Even after Rosalie’s breathing became so shallow I could barely tell if she was still alive.

“She needs air,” Mercer said.

I shoved his arm away.

“You said she was dead.”

“Theodore, move.”

“You told us she was dead.”

Sebastian grabbed both of my shoulders—not violently, but firmly enough to pull me back.

I reacted without thinking.

My elbow slammed into his ribs.

He grunted.

Released me.

Then stepped between me and Rosalie while Dr. Mercer leaned over her.

I reached for the mallet again.

Sebastian noticed.

“Leave it.”

“I’m not going to hit him.”

“I know.”

Those two words stopped me far more effectively than any threat ever could.

Dr. Mercer placed two shaking fingers against Rosalie’s neck.

Then he carefully untied the gray satin ribbon resting beneath her lips.

As the fabric slipped away…

A dark red pressure mark slowly appeared at the corner of her mouth.