Inside my coffin at my own funeral, I was poisoned and paralyzed while my husband declared me dead—unaware I could still hear every word and expose his betrayal from within.

a corpse if the doctor had been paid enough.

Doctor Armand stood nearby, hands folded, face solemn.

His cufflinks were new.

Sapphire.

Julian had always been vulgar in rewarding his servants.

My sister Celeste sobbed into a handkerchief near the front pew.

My board members sat behind her, pale and stunned.

Reporters lined the back walls, hungry for tragedy.continue reading …