Chapter 2: The Handkerchief
Part 2 ⬇️
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Lorraine grabbed Rachel's arm.
"Call someone.
Right now."
"He's been d\*clared.
The doctor already—"
"Rachel." Lorraine's voice dropped to almost nothing.
"His chest is moving."
The room erupted.
Two uncles pulled Madison out of the casket as gently as they could while she cried and reached back for him.
Someone ran outside shouting for a phone.
An older relative pressed her hand over her mouth and turned away.
Rachel leaned over Thomas, shaking.
"Thomas.
Thomas, can you hear me?"
Nothing.
Then — the faintest sound.
Not a word.
Not a breath anyone could be sure of.
But Lorraine heard it.
And she went completely still.
"He made a sound."
"You're imagining it," someone said from the back.
"I am not imagining it."
Madison had stopped crying.
She stood at the edge of the casket with both hands gripping the side, watching her father's face with that same calm, certain expression she'd held for hours.
"I told you," she said quietly.
"I told you he was warm."
An uncle stepped forward to pull her back.
That's when Rachel noticed it.
The folded handkerchief in Thomas's breast pocket — the one she had placed there herself that morning.
It was damp.
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What Rachel found out next made her collapse to the floor.
The full story is already up — click the link below to read what Thomas had been trying to tell them all along.
