'We Haven't Even Buried Her Yet and You're Already Dividing Up Her Things' — I Woke Up Inside My Own Coffin
"Madelyn?" she whispered.
I gathered every ounce of strength remaining in my body. I let out a deep, strained groan.
My mother slammed her hand over her mouth. Christopher immediately jumped up to block her path.
"Mrs. Miller, please do not do this to yourself. You are just extremely upset."
"Get out of my way right now, Christopher!"
She thrust her fingers into the narrow gap. She shoved the heavy wooden lid wide open.
The bright sunlight hit my face full force. I opened my eyes completely and looked around the room.
My mother screamed so loudly that all the women in the kitchen came running. One aunt crossed herself in shock. Another pulled out her mobile phone to dial an ambulance. Chloe backed away until her spine hit the far wall.
Christopher did not scream. He stood completely frozen, staring down at me with an unblinking gaze. I saw no relief on his face. Only cold, desperate calculation.
"It must be a severe episode of catalepsy," Christopher announced loudly. "We need to get her to the emergency room immediately."
I managed to lift my head a few inches off the white satin pillow. My brain felt like it was floating in fog. But I turned my neck to look for my sister. The gold heart pendant gleamed brightly against her black blouse.
I lifted a trembling hand and pointed a finger directly at her chest.
"Mine," I rasped.
Everyone in the room turned to look at Chloe.
Chloe swallowed hard. She tried to cover the gold chain with her fingers.
"Christopher told me that you wanted me to have it..."
"Take it off her right now!" my mother ordered.
"Mom, please, I can explain everything."
"I said take it off!"
As Chloe struggled with the small metal clasp, the thick taste of cinnamon milk rushed back into my memory. I remembered how dark the bedroom became after Christopher switched off my phone following our argument. And then I remembered something far worse than the fight itself.
Just before I lost consciousness, I had heard his low voice whispering in the kitchen: "Do not worry about her anymore. Tomorrow she will not be able to stop a single thing we do."
When the paramedics arrived, one of them gently asked if I knew where I was.
I stared past his shoulder at the open casket, at my shaking mother, and at my sister standing against the wall with her bare neck.
"I am at my own wake," I answered clearly. Then I looked the paramedic in the eye. "Call the police. Immediately."
Christopher made a sudden move toward the front door. My older cousin, Benjamin, stepped directly into his path and blocked the frame.
"Nobody leaves this house until the officers arrive," Benjamin said.
At the emergency clinic, medical tests confirmed that my blood contained heavy traces of a potent prescription sedative. I had never held a prescription for that drug in my life.
The detective took my full statement that same afternoon from my hospital bed. I explained the mysterious bank transfer. The warm milk. The conversation I overheard from inside the coffin. The massive life insurance policy. I also made sure to explain that the house Christopher and I lived in was solely in my name. Four months prior, I had inherited a valuable downtown commercial building from my late aunt.
The detective stopped writing and looked up. "Did your husband have full access to those legal property documents?"
A wave of icy coldness washed over my skin. "Yes. He did."
Several hours later, the investigator returned with fresh updates. Chloe had been taken into custody at the station after officers stopped her trying to board an intercity bus to Minneapolis. They found two one-way tickets. My gold necklace hidden inside her purse. Certified copies of my original property deeds.
Christopher, however, had vanished.
Early the next morning, the lead detective walked into my room carrying a heavy Manila folder.
"Ma'am, we located your husband an hour ago. And what he tried to accomplish this morning proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that your wake was no tragic accident."
He placed a legal document bearing my personal signature onto the tray table in front of me.
A signature I knew I had never written.