Within days, rumors spread. John canceled meetings. He looked pale. Weak.
Stella smiled as she poured his tea.
He never drank it.
Then the news broke.
John Harrison Dead at 47.
The funeral was massive.
Stella sobbed theatrically. Mark gave a moving speech.
They thought they’d won.
The Reveal
At the reading of the will, just as signatures were finalized—
The courtroom doors burst open.
John walked in.
Alive.
Holding Isabella’s hand.
Chaos erupted.
Recordings played. Voices confessed. Evidence flooded the room.
Stella screamed.
Mark collapsed.
Police moved in.
The truth could no longer hide.
Freedom
That evening, John took Isabella back to her room. Everything was just as she left it.
“I thought I’d never come home,” she whispered.
“You’re safe now,” he said. “Forever.”
The next morning, they returned to the cemetery.
John pushed the headstone over. It shattered.
“I wasn’t meant to be buried,” Isabella said softly.
“No,” he replied, hugging her. “You were meant to live.”
Hand in hand, they walked away.
Because some stories don’t end at a grave.
They begin again—when truth finally sees the light.
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