Before I could fall to my knees at the graveside, hands forced me down until they struck the hard earth.
Mariam took out a tablet from her bag with deliberate slowness and held it in front of my face, a smile curving at the corner of her mouth. “You wanted the footage from five years ago? Then, watch.”
At the same time, Charlton gave an order. Men hefted tools and began to dig at the tombstone.
His voice was brittle with indifference. “Arizona, I’ll give you one more chance. Teach us a doctor who can operate, and I won’t disturb your son’s ashes.”
Blood ran cold through me. My body trembled.
“You’re insane, Charlton! That is your own child’s remains! How can you do this? How can you deny him peace in death?!”
His gaze flickered. He spoke again, his tone calm and hard. “Teach, or watch his ashes dug up.”
Mariam’s smile was sweet but sharp as a blade. She pressed play.
The nightmare from five years ago unfolded on the screen.
My son’s breath faltered on the operating table. The monitor recorded every misstep, every manipulated moment of that disaster.
It was the rawest wound of my life.