Chapter 2

3.

Mabel's body had already succumbed to rigor mortis.

Her legs were locked wide apart.

She couldn't fit into a shroud, and the coffin lid wouldn't close.

With the dead infant still lodged inside her, nobody dared to touch her.

"Mabel, you're gone now," I whispered as I cleaned her body. "Being dead is better than living another day with these people. I promise, once the bridge is fixed, I'm taking your daughter. I won't leave her here."

I placed the baby girl next to her and wiped the diesel off her skin.

Only then did Mabel's eyes finally drift shut.

Behind me, Cody was pacing and cursing. "How much did this funeral cost? She doesn't even deserve a coffin!"

"Just break her legs!" he shouted. "Snap the bones so the lid fits! Why are you being so useless?"

He glared at me. "And you, stop acting like she was your wife. Once this is over, take your creepy little urn and get the hell out of my house!"

"Don't think you're getting a cent of the government relocation money for this land!"

Arguing with him was pointless.

If it weren't for my medical ethics, I would have used my scalpel to show him exactly how Mabel felt when she died.

The baby girl, who hadn't had a drop of milk since birth, began to cry.

As I picked her up, I saw Mabel's blood-red eyes snap open again.

My mother used to tell me that a vengeful spirit takes as many lives as the number of blood streaks in their eyes.

I counted four streaks in Mabel's pupils.

A moment later, a pool of dark blood began to seep from under the cheap wooden coffin.

"Don't look..."

A man's voice, deep and cold, whispered directly into my ear.