Chapter 2 - The Silence That Screamed
Richard’s hand locked onto Leo’s small shoulder with a grip that bordered on cruel, his fingers digging fiercely into the dark blue fabric of the boy's suit jacket.
“Step away from the casket right now, Leo,” Richard whispered, his voice trembling beneath a thin veneer of forced calm. “You are causing a scene. Your mother is gone. What you think you see down there is just grief playing cruel tricks on your mind.”
Leo shook his head violently, refusing to break eye contact with the dark void beneath the splintered wood. Inside the white box, the woman thrashed against her restraints, a muffled, desperate plea escaping through the thick silver tape across her mouth. The distinct sound of leather scraping against the satin lining sent a cold shiver racing down the boy’s spine.
“It’s her!” Leo screamed, trying to wrench his arm free from his uncle’s suffocating grasp. “That’s Mom! She’s wearing her wedding necklace! Look at her eyes, Richard! Look at her!”
Aunt Clara pushed her way through the panicked crowd of mourners, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her face was deathly pale, her blonde hair coming undone from its neat bun.
“Richard, don't hurt him,” Clara hissed, her voice laced with a frantic edge that she couldn't quite conceal. “Just get him away from here. Take him to the vestry. Now!”
“I’m not moving until you open this box!” Leo yelled, tears finally spilling over his thick eyelashes and tracking hot lines down his pale cheeks. He lunged forward again, kicking his black dress shoes against the polished side of the white lacquer coffin.
The murmurs among the seated guests swelled into an overwhelming wave of panic and confusion. Elderly church members crossed themselves frantically, while others stood up to leave, grabbing their coats as the eerie atmosphere in St. Jude’s grew suffocating.
Richard’s face tightened into a hard, unforgiving mask. He ignored Clara’s warning and hoisted Leo bodily off the floor, hoisting the struggling, kicking eight-year-old under one arm like a sack of grain.
“Let me down! You’re hurting me! Help me!” Leo cried out, thrashing wildly as Richard carried him backward away from the altar.
As Richard turned to haul the boy toward the heavy oak side doors, a sharp, metallic clang echoed from the open casket. Leo stopped fighting for a fraction of a second, craning his neck backward to see.
A silver pendant—the exact diamond-encrusted cross his father had given his mother on their tenth anniversary—glinted in the harsh funeral spotlights, resting on the chest of the bound woman inside.
Richard noticed Leo’s fixed stare and quickened his pace, his breathing turning ragged and shallow. He shoved open the heavy oak door leading to the damp, stone-walled hallway behind the sanctuary, plunging them into sudden shadow.
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“You can’t hide her forever,” Leo whispered into the dark, his voice dangerously steady as Richard slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind them.
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