Chapter 2 - The Empty Grave
The cemetery was shrouded in a thick, eerie fog by 2:00 AM. The towering gothic arches of the entrance loomed like silent sentinels as Nathan’s black SUV slipped past the gates.
Marcus Vance, Nathan's private investigator and oldest friend, stood by a freshly parked unmarked van, shivering. Beside him were three burly men carrying heavy-duty shovels and a mechanical winch.
"Nathan, this is highly illegal," Marcus hissed, grabbing Nathan's arm as he stepped out of the vehicle. "If the board of Reed Innovations finds out you're desecrating your late wife's grave, they'll oust you by sunrise. You're talking about corporate suicide!"
"I don't care about the board, Marcus," Nathan said, his eyes hollow. "If what I saw today is real, my entire life for the past three years has been a lie."
They walked in silence to the Reed family plot. The marble headstone read: ELIZABETH REED — BELOVED WIFE, BRIGHT LIGHT.
The men began to dig. The sound of shovels striking frozen earth echoed through the silent graveyard like a heartbeat. Nathan stood motionless, a statue in the dark, watching the dirt pile up.
After two agonizing hours, a hollow thud resonated from the pit.
"We hit the vault, boss," one of the men called out.
Using heavy chains and the winch, they cracked open the outer concrete vault. Nathan stepped to the edge of the pit, his heart hammering against his ribs. Below lay the dark mahogany casket. It looked untouched, preserved by the sealed vault.
"Open it," Nathan whispered.
"Nathan, you don't want to see this," Marcus warned, his voice laced with dread. "Decomposition, even in a sealed—"
"Open it!" Nathan roared.
The workmen used crowbars to break the heavy brass seals. With a agonizing screech of metal, the lid of the casket was pried open.
Marcus shone a powerful tactical flashlight into the depths of the coffin.
Nathan braced himself for a horror movie scene. Instead, what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.
There was no body.
There were no bones. No decayed funeral garments.
Resting inside the white silk lining of the casket were dozens of heavy, gray bricks of industrial silicone, precisely weighted to match the mass of a hundred-and-twenty-pound woman. And pinned to the silk where Elizabeth's head should have been was a simple, handwritten note.
Nathan slid down into the grave, ignoring the dirt ruining his expensive pants. He snatched the paper. The handwriting was elegant, slanted, and instantly recognizable. It was Elizabeth’s.
Nathan, If you are reading this, it means they found me, or you finally looked. I’m sorry I had to die to survive. Do not trust Arthur. Do not trust the clinic. Run.
Nathan stared at the paper, his vision blurring. Elizabeth was alive. She had staged her own death.
But why? Who was she running from?
And then, the name on the note clicked in his mind: Arthur.
Arthur Pendelton. His co-founder. His COO. The man who had managed the biotech division of Reed Innovations—the very division that had developed the experimental gene-therapy drug that was supposed to save Elizabeth’s life.
May you like
Nathan gripped the note so hard it tore.
"She's alive," Nathan whispered, a dark, dangerous fire igniting in his chest for the first time in three long years. "Marcus, find out everything about Sarah Williams. Every clinic she’s visited, every shelter she’s registered at. We have to find her before they do."
