Inside, Daniel was holding court in the foyer, his voice booming with fake humility.

“Well, you know, it was a tough transition, but Vanessa’s really made this house a home. We’re finally ready to take Carter Consulting to the next level.”

I placed my hand on the heavy oak door and pushed. The hinges screamed a protest that silenced the jazz and froze the laughter.

Fifty pairs of eyes turned toward the entrance. Through the crowd, I locked eyes with Daniel.

The smug, wine-drunk smile slid off his face and contorted into absolute horror as he took in my clothes, the imposing lawyers behind me, and the realization that the woman he thought he’d buried had just kicked open the lid of her coffin.

The silence was absolute — the heavy, suffocating quiet that precedes a car crash.