At the multimillionaire’s wife’s funeral, a homeless girl pointed at the casket and screamed, “She’s not dead! I saw him lock her in!” The husband sneered, “Get this lunatic out of here.” But when the lock broke and the lid slid open, what lay inside made the entire crowd freeze in terror…

from the house itself; it had come from a detached garage nearby, sending shrapnel and burning debris into the damp earth.

A figure stumbled out of the thick smoke, coughing violently, clutching a scorched metal briefcase to his chest. It was Rurik. His clothes were singed, his face blackened with soot.

I tackled him into the mud before he could even continue reading …