Part 2

The blanket moved.

Only slightly.

But it was enough.

Clara stumbled backward as the pale hand beneath the covers twitched weakly, the old silver ring glinting in the morning light like something dragged up from the bottom of a grave.

“No…” she whispered.

Her husband pushed himself upright too quickly and nearly lost his balance. He looked as though he had not slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his jaw covered in uneven stubble, and there were dark bruises beneath his eyes.

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