Chapter 1 - THE GRAVE'S VERDICTThe heavy manila folder landed on the polished mahogany coffin with a sharp, echoing slap that cut through the frozen cemetery air like a whip.
Richard Vale’s face twisted from triumphant arrogance into sheer confusion as he stared down at the simple paper dossier. The mourners—business associates, bribed board members, and cowardly relatives—held their breath.
"What is this nonsense?" Richard scoffed, though a bead of cold sweat broke out along his hairline. He looked back at Martin Creel, the estate executor. "Martin, tell these people this is just some grieving kid's psychological breakdown!"
Martin didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was staring at the red corporate seal embossed on the folder’s cover.
I pushed myself up onto my crutches, my bandages throbbing with a dull, white-hot ache where my left leg used to be. I leaned my weight against the cold stone of a neighboring headstone, looking down at my uncle with absolute, unblinking calm.
"Open it, Richard," I said softly, the winter wind carrying my voice across the graveyard. "Read the first page. It's the only thing standing between you and total, absolute ruin."
Richard’s hand trembled slightly as he reached down, snatched the folder off the coffin, and tore the brass clasp open.
He pulled out a single, legally certified document.
May you like
His eyes scanned the top line. Then the second line.
Within three seconds, every shred of color drained from Richard’s face until he looked like a corpse standing among the dead. The paper fluttered from his nerveless fingers, landing face up in the frozen mud at his feet.
