My father's hand struck my face, silencing me. "What are you screaming for? You cursed her to death, and you still won't let her rest?"
"Shut up!"
His roar usually turned me to stone. But today, grief was stronger than fear.
I screamed back. "I want to find Grandma! Where is she? Where did you put her?"
My mother stood up. Her fingers dug into my arm as she yanked me toward the black box. "Your grandmother is in the coffin! They nailed it shut."
Her voice was cold. Final.
"You will never see her again."
I screamed, thrashing against the hands holding me back, my small body straining toward the large wooden box. I was too short to see inside—I could only cling to the rough corner of the coffin, splinters biting into my palms.
"Grandma! I want to see Grandma!"
Zachary Logan caught my arm, his grip firm but his voice patient. "Naomi, listen to me. We put Grandma in the coffin so she can rest in peace and go to Heaven. You can't disturb her now, do you understand?"
He crouched down to my level, his eyes level with mine. "If you make a scene like this, Grandma won't be able to find her way. Right now, you need to kneel and keep vigil. If she sees you being a good girl, she'll be happy."