Chapter 3 The Burial

The rain began before they reached the cemetery. Not a storm. Just a cold, persistent drizzle that blurred the windows of the black car carrying Catherine towards the Ashford family's private burial ground. She sat between Margaret and Nathaniel. Richard occupied the front passenger seat. Nobody spoke. Catherine kept both hands folded over her handbag. Inside was her phone. Inside that phone were messages from a dead man telling her to run. And beneath her fingertips, buried beside the tiny box of baby socks, was Liam's silver key. She stared through the window. The cemetery appeared beyond tall iron gates set into an ancient stone wall. Ashford names covered the monuments beyond it, some weathered by generations of rain. This was where Liam would remain. The thought felt impossible. The car stopped. Richard stepped out first. Nathaniel followed, opening an umbrella before turning towards Catherine. She hesitated. "Take it," he said, offering it to her. "What about you?" "I'll survive the rain." The casual answer sounded so much like something Liam might have said that Catherine's throat tightened. She accepted the umbrella without thanking him. Nathaniel noticed. He said nothing. The coffin was carried towards the grave. Catherine walked behind it. She barely heard the minister. Words like eternal, rest, and peace drifted past without meaning. There was nothing peaceful about this. Liam was twenty-seven. They had been married for seven days. Their child would never know him. Unless... Her gaze shifted towards the gathered mourners. The man in the black suit was there again. Far beyond the main group. No umbrella. Rain darkened his shoulders as he stood beneath an old oak tree, watching. Catherine's pulse quickened. Him. The stranger from the estate. She glanced at Nathaniel. His attention appeared to be on the coffin. When Catherine looked towards the tree again, the man had moved. Closer. Not enough to draw attention. Enough for her to know it was deliberate. The minister finished his prayer. Margaret quietly broke first. A strangled sob escaped her, so different from the controlled woman Catherine had seen at the estate that everyone nearby seemed startled. Richard placed an arm around his wife. Catherine could not watch them. She stepped towards the coffin. Someone offered her a white rose. She stared at it. "No." The woman holding it looked confused. Catherine bent and picked a tiny yellow wildflower growing between the wet grass instead. She placed it on Liam's coffin. "You would've complained about the roses," she whispered. Her mouth trembled. For one moment she forgot everything else. The warnings. The stranger. The fear. There was only Liam. "I don't know what you got yourself into." Her fingers rested against the coffin. "I don't know why you didn't tell me." The tiny life inside her felt suddenly like the only piece of him that death hadn't stolen. "I'll protect our baby." Her voice dropped lower. "I promise." The ropes began lowering Liam into the ground. Catherine forced herself to watch. She would not look away. Not until the coffin disappeared. Not until the first handful of earth struck its lid. That sound broke something inside her. She turned sharply. And found the stranger staring straight at her. This time, he touched two fingers to his wrist. Catherine frowned. Then understood. A watch. Time. Was he telling her to leave? She looked towards Nathaniel. When she looked back, the stranger was walking away. Catherine took one step after him. "Catherine." Richard's voice stopped her. "The cars are waiting." She turned. "Who was that man?" Richard's expression remained unchanged. "What man?" "The man under the tree." Richard looked towards it. There was nobody there. "I don't know what you're talking about." A chill moved through Catherine. Either Richard genuinely hadn't seen him... Or he was lying. ________________________________________ The journey back began twenty minutes later. Catherine sat beside Nathaniel this time. Margaret travelled with Richard in another car. Rain streaked across the windows. Catherine checked the road ahead. Trees. Fields. An occasional house. She had no plan. Running had sounded simple when it appeared in a message. Actually disappearing was another matter. She had no luggage. No passport. Very little cash. And Liam had specifically warned her not to go home. Her fingers closed around the key inside her handbag. That was all she had. A key to something. Somewhere. "Catherine." She looked towards Nathaniel. He had been watching her. "What?" "Where are you going after this?" Her stomach tightened. "What do you mean?" "After the funeral." "Home." The lie came too quickly. Nathaniel's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. "Your home?" "Yes." "Alone?" Catherine stared at him. "Why are you asking?" Nathaniel looked towards the window. "No reason." There was absolutely a reason. Another of Liam's warnings surfaced. Especially do not trust my family. Catherine turned away. Her nausea came suddenly. Real nausea. She clamped a hand over her mouth. "Stop the car." The driver glanced into the mirror. "Mrs Ashford?" "Please stop." The tyres crunched onto the roadside. Catherine pushed the door open and stumbled out. Cold air hit her face. She hurried towards the verge, bent forward and breathed deeply. Behind her, a car door opened. Nathaniel. "Don't." He stopped. Catherine straightened slowly. Twenty metres ahead was a narrow side road. Beyond it, through the rain, she could see something. A small station sign. BLACKRIDGE. Catherine stared at it. A train station. Her heart began pounding. This was it. Not a plan. An opportunity. She looked back. Nathaniel stood beside the car. Their eyes met. Something passed between them. Perhaps he saw the decision on her face. Perhaps he had known before she did. "Get back in the car, Catherine," he said. But he didn't move towards her. Catherine took one step backwards. Then another. Nathaniel remained still. "Go," he said quietly. Catherine wasn't certain she had heard correctly. "What?" His face hardened. "I said get in the car." But his eyes told her something entirely different. Catherine turned. And ran. Her shoes slipped against the wet pavement as she raced towards the station. She didn't look behind her. If Nathaniel followed, she didn't want to know. If he didn't, she didn't want to understand why. A train waited at the platform. The doors were already closing. "Wait!" Catherine sprinted. A conductor saw her and held the nearest door. She climbed aboard seconds before it shut. The train began moving. Only then did Catherine look back. Nathaniel stood near the road. He hadn't followed. The black car remained exactly where she had left it. For several seconds, brother and widow stared at one another across the increasing distance. Then Nathaniel disappeared from view. Catherine sank into an empty seat. She was soaked. Breathless. Terrified. And alone. She opened her handbag. Her fingers passed over the baby socks before finding the small silver key. For the first time, Catherine examined it properly. There was something engraved along its edge. She wiped away the moisture with her thumb. Three tiny numbers emerged. 317. Catherine frowned. A locker number? A room? Then her phone vibrated. Her blood ran cold. Liam. One new message. She opened it. Good. Now find locker 317. Catherine slowly raised her eyes. The train carried her further from the Ashfords with every passing second. She looked down at the silver key in her palm. Liam hadn't simply told her to run. He had planned where she would go next. And suddenly Catherine understood something far more frightening. Her husband hadn't prepared for the possibility of his death. He had expected it.