Martha had not heard her son cry like that since the county deputy came to their farmhouse thirty years ago to tell them his father’s truck had crashed over a steep ravine.

“Momma, it is Dad inside that box,” Christopher revealed.

The ground seemed to move beneath Martha’s feet.

“Your father died thirty years ago, Christopher.”

“That is just what they made everyone believe back then,” Christopher managed to say.

Suddenly, a harsh male voice shouted in the background of the call.

“Grab that phone away from him now!”

There was a loud sound of a physical struggle over the line, followed by a heavy impact and a sharp groan from Christopher.