Buried Alive With My Fake Husband

Hermina looked like a wet rat. Her silk dress clung to her body, revealing the rigid shape of her corset.

She waved the guards away. They were useless in the stampede anyway.

She walked toward Delphine. She opened her arms. Her face twisted into a mask of tragic love.

"Oh, my poor baby!" she shouted over the alarm. "You are hallucinating! Come to Mommy!"

Delphine stood shivering. She let her shoulders slump. She looked at the floor.

Hermina got close. Too close.

She turned her body so the remaining guests couldn't see her right hand. The hand sliding a fresh syringe out of her sleeve.

"It will all be over soon," Hermina whispered.

Delphine stepped into her embrace. She hugged Hermina tight.

"I missed you," she whimpered.

She felt Hermina's muscles tense as she prepared to stab the needle into Delphine's side.

Delphine's left hand shot down and clamped onto Hermina's wrist. Her grip was iron.

Hermina gasped. She looked down at Delphine. Delphine's eyes weren't vacant anymore. They were clear. Cold.

Delphine leaned up to Hermina's ear.

"Mommy's bubbles bite," she whispered. "They make you go sleepy-bye."

Hermina's eyes widened in shock.

Delphine didn't give her time to process. She dug her thumb into the nerve cluster on the inside of Hermina's wrist. She twisted, using a technique she'd practiced a hundred times on a rubber dummy.

A sharp crack.

A sickening, wet click. Hermina dropped the syringe as her fingers went numb.

Hermina opened her mouth to scream.

"Mommy!" Delphine wailed, louder than Hermina's cry. "Don't let the monsters get me!"

She shoved Hermina away from her.

Hermina fell to her knees, clutching her useless hand. She was hyperventilating.

Delphine dropped next to her. She patted Hermina's wet cheek, digging her nails in slightly.

"Witch!" she shrieked, scrambling backward on her butt. "The witch bit me!"

She held up her arm. There was a red mark where she had pinched herself earlier.

The guests who hadn't fled stopped staring. They saw a grieving stepmother attacking a traumatized girl.

"Hermina!" Senator Miller yelled. "Control yourself!"

Hermina couldn't speak. She was rocking back and forth, the pain blinding her.

Beatrice was at the coffin. No one was stopping her now.

She reached in.

Delphine stopped breathing. She watched Beatrice's hand touch Cedric's face.

If he was dead, this was all for nothing. If he was dead, she was just a crazy widow who was about to go to jail.

Beatrice gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.