His fingers flexed. His chest rose in a shallow breath. His eyes fluttered open, glazed with confusion and fear.
Kimberly lunged forward and lifted him into her arms, sobbing.
“My baby. My God. You are alive. You are alive.”
Tyler clung to her neck with surprising strength. His voice was a weak whisper.
“Mom. Do not go with them. They wanted me gone.”
The words sliced through the room like broken glass.
Brian stepped backward, his face draining of color.
“What nonsense,” he said too quickly. “He is confused. He is sick.”
Sandra covered her mouth, her hand trembling.
Kimberly held Tyler closer.
“What do you mean, sweetheart. Who wanted you gone.”
Tyler eyes filled with tears.
“I saw them. In the kitchen. They were kissing. They said you had money. They said I was in the way. Sandra gave me something in the dessert. It tasted strange. Then I got sick.”
The room erupted in chaos. Kimberly turned toward Brian, her voice now sharp as steel.
“You told me he died of sudden illness. You rushed the cremation. You comforted me while pushing this forward. Why.”
Brian raised his hands.
“He is a child. He is making things up.”
Sandra stepped toward the door.
“I need air,” she muttered.