“Open it!” Emma cried. “Please, open it now!”
The funeral workers hesitated, then rushed to remove the nails and loosen the hinges. Buddy barked furiously beside them, tail thrashing in excitement.
The coffin lid creaked open.
Gasps filled the air.
Inside, beneath the pink blanket, Sophie’s chest moved—ever so slightly.
For a long second, no one moved. The cemetery fell into stunned silence. Rain pattered softly on the open coffin, but nobody seemed to notice. Emma Lewis stood frozen, her mouth open, her hands trembling as she stared at her daughter’s chest—rising and falling, weak but unmistakably alive.
“Sophie…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She’s breathing—she’s breathing!”
Daniel snapped out of his shock first. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled. “Now!”
The funeral director fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking. Buddy barked again—short, sharp bursts as if to keep everyone alert. A few mourners who had stayed behind began sobbing, some covering their mouths in disbelief.
