A pale, bruised hand reached out from the fractured white coffin, fingers trembling as they clawed at the air. The man in the black suit—Julian Vance, the powerful, wealthy husband of the supposedly deceased Emily Vance—stood paralyzed. The terror on his face wasn’t just shock; it was the sheer horror of a man watching his dark secrets disintegrate in real-time.

CLICK.

The sharp, metallic sound of a gun cocking echoed through the basement.

"Drop the needle, Thorne, or I put a bullet through your spine," a stern voice barked from the darkness near the stairs.

Everyone spun around. Standing at the entrance of the basement was a woman in a dark trench coat, flanked by four heavily armed Federal Marshals.

Mia’s heart leaped—it was Special Agent Clara Vance, Julian’s estranged elder sister and a senior investigator with the Federal Bureau of Investigation!

"Clara?!" Julian stammered, his face turning ghostly white. "What... what are you doing here? This is a restricted medical area!"

"Save it, Julian," Clara said, stepping forward with her weapon leveled directly at her brother’s chest. "Federal agents have been monitoring your offshore accounts for three months. We knew you were laundering money through the family trust, but we had no idea you were desperate enough to attempt murder."

"She’s crazy!" Victoria screamed, pointing at Clara. "Sterling! Shoot her!"

Detective Sterling reached for his sidearm, but before his hand could touch the holster, two Federal Marshals fired simultaneously. Taser prongs slammed into Sterling’s chest, sending 50,000 volts of electricity through his body. He collapsed onto the concrete floor, convulsing wildly.

Dr. Thorne dropped the syringe, throwing his hands in the air. "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! They forced me! They threatened my children!"

"You coward!" Julian roared. He lunged toward Dr. Thorne, grabbing the dropped syringe from the floor and attempting to stab his own sister!

BANG!

A single shot echoed in the enclosed basement. Julian stopped dead in his tracks. He dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder as blood seeped through his designer suit. The gun slid across the floor.

"Secure them all," Clara ordered coldly.

Within minutes, paramedics swarmed the room. They administered the reversal agent for the paralytic to both Mia and Emily.

As the feeling slowly returned to Mia’s extremities, she sat up, coughing and crying with relief. Next to her, Emily was also breathing deeply, the color returning to her face.

Emily turned her head toward Mia, reaching out once more. This time, Mia took her hand tightly.