Chapter 1: The Empty Casket

The rain in Crestview didn't wash away the filth; it only turned the graveyard into a pit of grey sludge.

I stood at the edge of the open grave, my black veil clinging to my face like a cold, wet hand. Inside the polished mahogany casket lay nothing but a few silk nightgowns and a photograph.

"Ashes to ashes," the priest droned.

I wanted to scream. There were no ashes. There was no body.

"Lara, keep your face straight," my father’s voice hissed beside me. He didn't look at the grave. He was busy adjusting his silk tie, a tie my mother had bought him for their tenth anniversary. "You're making a scene."

I turned to look at him, my breath hitching. "She’s been dead for three days, Dad. Three days. And you already sold her villa? You wouldn't even wait for the autopsy?"

"There was no need for an autopsy," a honey-sweet voice interrupted. Elena, my former nanny and current stepmother-to-be, stepped forward. She tucked a stray hair behind my ear with a smile that didn't reach her predatory eyes. "The psychiatric hospital was very clear, darling. Your mother’s heart simply… gave up. The years of ‘instability’ were too much for her."

"You poisoned her," I whispered, the realization hitting me with the force of a physical blow.

Slap.

The sound echoed across the silent cemetery. My father’s hand was still shaking as he pulled it back. My cheek stung, but the coldness in my chest was far worse.

"Don't you ever accuse Elena of such a thing," my father growled, his voice low so the few guests wouldn't hear. "Your mother was a burden. She was dragging this family into the dirt with her delusions. Elena is the only reason we still have a roof over our heads."

"My mother’s family built that roof!" I choked out, hot tears finally breaking through. "Every cent you spend, every suit you wear, belongs to the mother you locked away!"

My father stepped closer, leaning into my ear. The smell of expensive scotch and Elena’s perfume wafted off him. "Not anymore. She signed it all over before she ‘passed.’ You’re twenty years old, Lara. You have no job, no degree, and now, no inheritance. If you want to keep eating, you'll shut your mouth and be grateful I don't throw you out into the rain with her."

He walked away then, tucking Elena under his arm as if they were at a celebration rather than a funeral.

I knelt by the muddy grave, my hands shaking. I remembered my mother’s last words when I had sneaked into the asylum a month ago. She had gripped my wrists so hard they bruised.

"The necklace, Lara. Don't let them find the key. If they get the Blue Heart, they'll kill me for real."

I had thought she was hallucinating. I had thought she was lost to the medicine they were feeding her. But looking at my father’s retreating back, I knew.

She wasn't dead. They had hidden her. And they had used me to do it.

I reached into the mud, grabbing a handful of earth and throwing it onto the empty casket.

"I won't be the good daughter anymore, Mom," I whispered into the wind. "I'll be the girl they’re afraid of."