Chapter 2 - THE MOVEMENT
"Ellie!" Clara gasped, her lace veil flying back as she stood up in panic.
Before her mother could stop her, the little girl planted her tiny shoes on the brass handle of the casket, hauled her small frame over the cushioned velvet ledge, and scrambled inside. She crawled directly beside her father, wrapped her tiny arms around his stiff gray suit, and pressed her tear-soaked cheek firmly against his chest.
“Daddy… please wake up.”
The entire chapel went silent.
Conversations froze. The priest lowered his Bible. A collective, aching gasp swept across the four rows of grieving relatives. Julian, Nathan’s younger brother, reached out a hand to steady Clara, who was already rushing forward down the altar steps, her face pale with embarrassment and heartbreak.
“Ellie, sweetheart… come to Mommy,” Clara pleaded, her voice trembling as she reached her arms into the open casket.
But Ellie shook her head violently, burying her face into the lapel of Nathan’s suit jacket, holding him with every ounce of strength her little body possessed.
“No. I want Daddy.”
Then she reached down for his hand.
She wrapped both of her tiny, warm hands around his large, pale, cold fingers and began to sob, her tears soaking into the silk lining beneath his wrist.
For a moment, nothing happened. The chapel remained suspended in a heavy, painful stillness, everyone waiting for Clara to lift her heartbroken child out of the casket.
Then—
One finger moved.
Ellie froze. Her sobbing instantly cut off.
Against her small palms, the broad knuckle of Nathan’s right index finger twitched. Once. Twice.
It moved again—a faint, distinct curl against her small thumb.
Clara stared at the casket in disbelief, her hands freezing mid-air, her breath catching so hard in her throat that she stumbled backward against the wooden railing.
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And suddenly Ellie screamed so loudly that everyone in the chapel jumped to their feet:
“MOMMY! DADDY’S NOT DEAD!”
