The Grave Meant For Her

CHAPTER 10

(The Grave Meant For Her)

Anna's fingers trembled slightly as she fastened the last button on her black dress. The fabric clung to her frame like a quiet shroud, swallowing her in its solemn weight.

She smoothed the skirt over her knees, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Pale skin. Dark hair pulled neatly back. Eyes swollen from a night spent crying and straight into the darkness. She barely recognized herself.

She looked like a ghoul.

Beneath her, the Fairchild mansion hummed with restrained energy. Servants whispered in hallways, polished shoes clicked across marble, and the low growl of engines outside signaled the waiting fleet of cars.

She drew in a breath, turned, and gently left the bedroom, descending the grand staircase.

The Fairchilds were already gathered. William stood at the foot of the grand staircase, composed as ever, well tailored black suit cut to perfection, his expression blank. 

Beside him, Edward spoke quietly into his phone while Katherine adjusted her gloves with meticulous care. Helena lounged against the banister, a small cruel smile touching her lips as though the day were an amusement meant solely for her.

Nyx was perched at her feet.

The twins, Oliver and Olivia, lingered close together. Olivia caught Anna's eyes and gave her a soft, reassuring smile. Oliver merely nodded, his gaze sharper, protective in its own unspoken way.

Daniel arrived last, tall, striking, with his wife Camille on his arm. Camille's smile was gentle, almost disarming in its sincerity when she greeted Anna. 

“You look beautiful,” she whispered, squeezing her hand.

Anna murmured a quiet thank-you, warmth flooding her chest at the rare kindness.

Edward's voice cut through the quietness.

“Okay. We'll discuss this when I return.” He spoke into the phone, putting it back in his pocket.

“So? Is Margot going to make it?” Katherine questioned.

“No, she can't. Richard too. We'll discuss more in the car. We're running late.”

Katherine nodded in understanding.

“Let's go,” William said finally, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a gavel. And with that, they filed into the waiting card outside.

********

The church bells rolled, solemn and heavy, as the convoy of black cars drew to a stop before the cathedral. Cameras flashed instantly, reporters calling out questions, their voices muffled by the thick presence of grief.

Inside, the air was heavy with incense and sorrow. White Lillie's and blood red roses framed the altar, their fragrance almost suffocating. 

At the center lay Lauren's coffin, polished wood gleaming under the muted light of stained glass.

Anna's throat tightened. Her sister. Her tormentor. Her own blood. And now, she's dead.

Truly gone forever.

The pews filled quickly with family friends, business associates, Lauren's mean bawling girlfriends and curious society faces. 

Whispers rippled like currents as eyes darted between the coffin and Anna. The Lancaster girl no one truly knew, thrust into the light only because her sister was gone.

Vincent looked completely riddled in grief, beside Margaret.

Margaret's glare found her instantly. Poisonous. Unrelenting. The older woman's face was a mask of grief sharpened by hatred. She made no attempt to hide her disdain, her lips curling into a sneer every time Anna dared life her gaze.

Anna lowered her eyes, her entire body flushing with discomfort. But Olivia's warm fingers slipped into hers, steadying her. “Ignore them. Ignore her,” Olivia murmured. “She's not worth your tears.”

Anna tried to smile but failed. Still, she clung to Olivia's hand like an anchor.

The service drones on… prayers for Lauren's soul, hymns, eulogies spoken in voices cracked with sorrow. William excused himself midway, stepping outside to take an urgent call. 

His absence left Anna feeling exposed, her every breath caught under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

At last came the time for final respects. Family members were invited forward, each holding a single white rose to lay upon Lauren's coffin before it would be lowered into the earth.

Edward went first, solemn and dignified. Katherine followed, her features carved from ice. The twins stepped forward next, Olivia's tears soft and sincere, Oliver's jaw tight with restraint.

He looked very shaken and uneasy.

When Anna's turn came, she rose slowly, her knees weak, her rose trembling in her grip. She stepped toward the coffin, heart pounding.

But before she could reach it, a sharp hand clamped around her wrist.

Margaret.

The widow's eyes blazed with a fury that silenced the air. “You dare?” She hissed, voice rising like venom. “You dare come here and lay flowers on my daughter's coffin as if you didn't drive her to her death with your own hands?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Cameras shifted, microphones extended, eager to capture every word of the unfolding spectacle.

Anna froze, words stuck in her throat. “I—I didn't—”

Margaret yanked her closet, her voice booming through the graveyard. “Don't you dare play the innocent! My daughter is laying cold and lifeless in that box because of you! While you stand above her, in her husband's arms!”

Vincent stepped forward quickly, grasping his wife's arm. Margaret, enough. This isn't the time—”

She shoved him off with shocking strength, her grief twisted into something monstrous. “Don't touch me! You'll defend her? This cursed thing that ruined us?” 

Anna stumbled back, mortified, her rise slipping from her grasp. Murmurs grew into roars as the press captured every humiliation second.

“You should be the one inside that coffin, not my daughter!” Margaret shrieked, her face contorted with rage. “Unloved. Unwanted. Illegitimate. A shadow nobody wanted! Why don't you just die! That's your rightful place!”

Before anyone could stop her, Margaret seized a handful of Anna's hair and shoved her violently forward.

Anna's scream pierced the air as she tumbled into the gaping grave. Dirt crumbled under her hands as she clawed to stop herself, her body colliding hard with the earth at the bottom. Pain shot up her arms, her chest heaving as she looked up in terror.

Above, horrified gasps echoed. Camille clutched at Daniel's arm, Oliver lunged forward but was caught by Edward's steadying hand. Olivia cried out, hand over her mouth in shock.

And Helena… Helena sat serenely, legs crossed, lips curved into the cruelest of smiles. Her dark eyes glittered with satisfaction, as if she'd been waiting for this very moment.

Anna's heart hammered wildly. The world spun, a dizzy blur of faces straight down at her. Cameras flashing in her face. Trapped. Shamed. Exposed in the worst way imaginable.

“Someone please get me out of here, please.” Anna screamed.

Margaret stood at the edge, glaring down at her. “That's where you belong, Anna. In the ground. Forgotten. Alone.”

Anna's tears spilled freely, her hands trembling in the dirt. She tried to rise, but the grave walls looked too high, the earth slipping through her fingers. Her lungs burned with humiliation, terror closing around her throat like iron.

“Mrs. Lancaster, stop this madness!” Olivia cried, rushing forward, tears streaking her cheeks.

Oliver's voice followed, sharp and scathing. “You've lost every shred of dignity, Mrs Lancaster, you're not just disgracing yourself… you're spitting on Lauren's memory.”

Margaret's lips twisted in defiance, but for the first time, she faltered under the weight of so many eyes. Murmurs swelled through the crowd, reporters capturing every cruel word, every hateful gesture.

Then… silence.

A voice, low and commanding, cut through the chaos with lethal precision.

“Get your hands from my wife, before I decide that grave is better suited for you.”

The words dropped like thunder.

Every head turned.

William stood there, his gaze locked on Margaret. His expression was calm— but his eyes burned with quiet fire.

The crowd hushed instantly, the sheer force of his presence demanding obedience.

Margaret stiffened, her fingers twitching, her fury colliding with fear.

Anna, trembling in the dirt below, lifted her tear-streaked face. For the first time since the nightmare began, relief flickered through her.

Because William was here.

And nothing about his gaze promised mercy… nor peace.