The Glass Casket

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

Vivienne Laurent has everything money can buy — except freedom. Trapped in a glittering empire built by her late father and ruled by her ruthless stepmother, Vivienne lives behind glass walls no one else can see. When her childhood sweetheart reenters her world during a high-stakes business deal, old wounds reopen — and dangerous truths surface. In a world where love is leverage and loyalty has a price, Vivienne must decide whether she will remain a beautiful prisoner… or shatter the glass and claim her own future.

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

Hidden deep in the mountains outside our town was a sealed cave filled with ancient coffins. According to local legend, one of our ancestors had died hundreds of years ago before he could marry or leave behind an heir. People believed his spirit never moved on. The town elders claimed the only way to break the curse was to choose a bride for him—someone who would be bound to him and carry on his bloodline. And for reasons I still didn’t understand, they chose me.

In my previous life, the apocalyptic haunts descended without warning, and the whole world plunged into a living hell. After two days of starvation, my husband and mother-in-law tied me to a chair. I begged them desperately, but they did not spare me. Instead, to keep their "food" fresh, they sliced the flesh straight from my leg. When I was reborn, I spent every last cent of my fortune to hold a grand, extravagant funeral, for myself. My husband and mother-in-law thought I had lost my mind. However, what they had not known was this: anyone who buried themselves could claim the treasures laid to rest in their own coffin: golden coins that could command the anomalies of the end times. Which meant that with this extravagant funeral, I would stand invincible when the apocalypse arrived. That time, without me as their "meat" and scapegoat… I would see how long they lasted.