A cold, mocking smirk curled my lips.
"I know."
The knife clattered from Chloe's mother's hand as she stared, utterly stunned, at her "dead" daughter rising from the coffin.

The sight of Chloe sitting upright sent the crowd into pandemonium.
"She's alive! My God, is it… her ghost possessing the body?!"
"There must be a terrible injustice! Only the deeply wronged dead return!"
"What is she? This is terrifying… I'm getting chills down my spine!"
Ethan was the first to move, surging forward to place himself protectively between me and Chloe.
"Claire!" he thundered, striking a righteous pose.

"You pushed her too far! You humiliated Chloe so profoundly, you forced her spirit back from the dead to demand justice! Apologize to her now, or face her vengeance!"
His voice was thick with fake dread.
I nearly choked suppressing a laugh.
We were all educated people, and he thought this would work?

"Bullshit," I stated flatly. "I checked her breathing earlier. She's alive."
The hired "medical staff" confirmed instantly.
"The lady's pulse was strong when we assessed. Very much alive."
Exposed, Chloe abandoned the pretense entirely, awkwardly clambering out of the coffin.
"I… I was hit by a car yesterday," she stammered, adopting wide-eyed confusion.
"But I just… woke up hearing all the noise!"
She played the disoriented victim.
"That's dangerous," I retorted, feigning concern laced with steel.
"I hear surviving a crash ‘unscathed' often means hidden injuries. You need a hospital full body check."
I pulled out my phone decisively.
"I'm calling 911. Now."
Panic flared in Chloe's eyes.
"No! No need! Honestly, I'm fine! Just a little dizzy… it's nothing!" She rushed towards me.
"Not a chance," I said, fingers poised over the screen.
"If you collapse later, they'll call me a murderer. My husband's already threatening divorce over this circus. Can't risk you dying – ambulance it is."
I started dialing.
Ethan lunged, ripped the phone from my grasp, and smashed it violently on the ground.
"CLAIRE! ENOUGH!​"
I stared at the shattered pieces on the floor, my face hardening into ice.
"Ethan," my voice was dangerously low, "forgot who your wife actually is?"
He drew himself up to his full height, standing resolute in front of Chloe.
"As your husband, I'm taking responsibility for Chloe and her child. None of this would have happened if you hadn't crashed her memorial. My decision is: pay Chloe's family $10,000 compensation. Then this ends."
His tone brooked no argument.
Chloe instantly clung to his arm.
Sophie wrapped herself around his leg.
The picture was obscenely clear: the perfect little family of three.
And I was the intruder, the spiteful ex.
"$10,000?" My laugh was sharp, devoid of humor.
"Bold move, Ethan. If Chloe was hit-and-run, it's the driver who owes compensation, not you playing the white knight."
And god knows how much of our marital assets you've already funneled to them over the years.
"If the driver can't be found…" Chloe's mother started, but I cut her off.
"I already reported it," I announced.
"The police will find who hit her." As if summoned, the distinct wail of sirens pierced the air outside.
Moments later, two uniformed officers entered.
"We received a report," the lead officer announced, scanning the tense scene, the open coffin, the mourners.
"Hit-and-run accident resulting in death. Where's the victim's family?"
Their eyes landed on the coffin, then swept the group of relatives.
Chloe's mother shrank back.
I stepped forward, polite and pointing. "Officers, this is the victim's mother."
My gesture shifted to Chloe. "And the woman clinging to my husband? That is the alleged victim."
I locked eyes with Chloe, my gaze razor-sharp.
"She claims she miraculously woke from death due to an ‘unresolved grievance'."
Chloe went bone-white, her hand trembling violently on Ethan's sleeve.
"Claire!"
Ethan snarled, his face thunderous with rage.
"If you say one more word, I'll rip your lying mouth off!"
I instantly feigned terror, ducking behind the officers like a shield.
"Officers! Did you hear that?"
My voice quivered dramatically.
"My husband just threatened me with violence for telling the truth. I'm genuinely afraid for my safety!"
The officers exchanged a look, taking in the smashed phone, Ethan's aggression, the bizarre scenario.
They nodded, one pulling out handcuffs. "Alright, Ms. Evans. You need to come with us."
Ethan lurched forward protectively.
"You can't arrest her! What's the charge? She didn't steal anything, she didn't harm anyone! What grounds?!"
"Sir, step back," the officer commanded firmly, blocking Ethan.
"Interfering investigation is a crime. Ms. Evans filing a false death report constitutes fraud. She's coming to the station for questioning."
A fresh wave of gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Fraud? Fake death?!" someone cried.
"That explains burying her so fast after a hit-and-run !"
"But why fake it? Must have something shady to hide!"
"Look how cozy she is with Claire's husband…" another hissed. "Definitely an affair brewing."
"And Ethan fighting for her… probably knew the whole scam!"
Exposed and humiliated under the sudden accusatory spotlight, Ethan's righteous fury crumpled into mortification.
He reluctantly stepped aside, offering Chloe a strained pat on the hand.
"It's… it's fine. Just cooperate. We have nothing to hide."
His voice lacked conviction.
Chloe's eyes darted wildly between Ethan, the officers, and the hostile crowd, trapped.
With no escape, she mutely held out her wrists as the officer applied the cuffs.
The sharp click echoed through the suddenly silent funeral home.