Chapter 7 - The Church Doors Swing Wide
The ambient lights inside the cathedral suddenly dimmed.
The fifty-foot high-definition presentation monitors mounted on the cathedral pillars—intended to play a memorial photo slideshow—flickered to life.
Instead of childhood photographs, the monitors displayed an aerial thermal radar log from Rocky Mountain National Park timestamped 3:14 PM.
Then, an audio recording blasted through the church sound system with crystal-clear, deafening fidelity.
“Is she dead?” Ashley’s voice echoed across the vaulted stone ceiling.
“For fifty million dollars, she better be,” Michael’s cold, mocking laugh boomed through the sanctuary.
The entire cathedral plunged into an icy, suffocating freeze.
Guests gasped, freezing in their seats. Reporters lowered their pens, staring at the screens in pure, unadulterated horror.
Michael’s sunglasses slipped from his fingers, clattering against the marble pulpit. His face drained of every single drop of color until he looked like carved chalk.
“Turn that off!” Michael screamed, his voice cracking into a high, hysterical shriek. “This is a sick joke! Someone hacked the sound board!”
BOOM.
The massive, twelve-foot carved oak double doors at the rear of the cathedral were thrown wide open.
A crisp mountain breeze swept down the center aisle, fluttering the white funeral lilies.
May you like
Every single head in the sanctuary snapped around.
Walking down the center aisle, bathed in the golden morning sunlight, was myself.
