“I wanted to die,” he said plainly. “Many nights, I stood on the bridge, looking down at the river, thinking: just one step, one step, and it’s over. But I couldn’t jump. Maybe I was a coward, or maybe some part of me still wanted to live.”
“Then, six months ago,” Micah continued, “the manager at Oakmont Cemetery needed a night watchman. No resume required. Just show up, keep the ground safe, and clean up. They gave me a small room in the storage building. Not much, but it was a roof, a reason to go on.”
He looked down at his hands, calloused and scarred by long, lonely nights.
“That day, when I overheard Peter and Dr. Keating talking,” he said, voice cracking, “I was checking the back parking lot. It was dark. They didn’t see me. I heard Peter say, ‘The drug worked. She’s cold now. Tomorrow, bury her early before anyone suspects.’“
Samantha gripped her chair tightly.
“Dr. Keating said he was scared. Peter told him, ‘Do it, or lose everything.’” Micah closed his eyes for a moment. “I stood there in the shadows, shaking. If I stayed silent, an innocent woman would be buried alive. And I remembered Emma, remembered Lily, remembered how I couldn’t save what I had. I failed my family… but this time, I couldn’t fail.”
Samantha stood and walked around to him. She knelt before Micah, an act that made the entire room seem to hold its breath. She took his hands and squeezed them.
“Micah,” she said, her voice trembling but strong. “You did not fail. Life failed you, but you didn’t give up. You saved me. You gave me a second chance, and now, let me give you the same.”
He lifted his head, eyes red, voice barely a shadow. “I don’t deserve…”
“Hush,” Samantha said softly but firmly. She placed her hand against his cheek. “You deserve this and more.”
They stayed like that, two people who had been crushed by life in different ways, holding each other’s hands, tears mingling. And in that moment, both of them were beginning to heal.
One week later, the trial of Peter and Dr. Mason began. The courtroom was packed, every seat taken, every corner filled with faces leaning forward as if terrified of missing even a second of the case that had shaken the entire nation. Outside, television vans lined the street, camera lenses glinting under the sun. Reporters whispered into their microphones: “The billionaire Samantha Fairchild comes back from the dead. Husband and family doctor arrested in shocking plot.”
Inside, Samantha entered slowly, supported by Micah on one side and Aunt Helen on the other. Her steps still trembled, but her eyes were bright and proud. She wore a simple black dress, not as glamorous as usual, but her presence alone made the entire room fall nearly silent.
A ripple of unrest swept through the gallery as she sat down in the front row, her gaze locking onto the defendant’s bench. Peter sat there, pale but with eyes cold as ice. The grief-stricken mask he’d worn at the funeral had vanished completely. In its place was a mocking smirk as his eyes slid over Samantha. Beside him, Dr. Mason Keating lowered his head, both hands trembling violently. Sweat soaked the shirt beneath the courtroom lights.
Judge Helena Brooks, a stern woman with silver hair and glasses sharp as blades, struck the gavel. “Court is now in session. The State versus Peter Fairchild and Dr. Mason Keating on charges of attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and medical malpractice.”
Prosecutor Andrew Callister rose, his voice clear and cutting like a scalpel slicing open the case.
“Your Honor,” Callister said, “this is not just greed. This is a calculated conspiracy. A husband who sought to bury his wife alive, aided by a doctor who betrayed his oath.” He turned, pointing at Peter. “Their motive was control over her empire, billions in assets, companies supporting thousands of families across this nation. But thanks to the courage of one man, this crime was stopped moments before it was buried in the ground.”
The crowd murmured. Many eyes turned to Micah, seated beside Samantha. His shirt was clean, his hair trimmed, but the weariness in his face was impossible to hide. He lowered his head, unused to sudden attention.
The prosecutor faced Peter again. “Do you deny poisoning your wife with a compound that slows vital functions, making her appear dead? Do you deny ordering the doctor to declare her death prematurely and rush the burial?”
Peter leaned forward, his voice icy. “I deny everything. This is a fabrication by a deranged drifter and a woman too weak to understand her own failing health. She was dying. I simply accepted that truth.”
A painful gasp echoed through the room. Samantha shot to her feet, eyes blazing with fury.
“Liar! Look at me, Peter. You poisoned my food. You forced my doctor to sign my death certificate. You intended to bury me while I was alive, like trash!”
Judge Brooks hammered her gavel. “Order!”
But the room remained taut as a snapping wire. Prosecutor Callister lifted a small evidence bag.
“Your Honor, this is the substance found in the syringe beside the gravesite. Toxicology confirms it is a paralytic, slowing the heartbeat and making the victim appear dead. Only a trained doctor could verify life signs, and this doctor signed the death certificate.”
All eyes swung to Mason Keating. He shrank back, his face collapsing. Then he burst into tears, confession spilling out.
“I was threatened! He forced me! Peter said if I didn’t sign, he’d ruin me, my family, and my hospital. I signed because I was terrified!”
Samantha stared straight at Mason, her voice molten with fury. “Terrified? You let them put me in a casket. You let them lower me into a grave. You betrayed your oath, and you betrayed me.”
Mason buried his face in his hands, sobbing. “Forgive me. Samantha, please forgive…”
The prosecutor turned to the judge. “We have the toxin, the syringe, the victim’s testimony, and the witness who risked his life to speak the truth.”
Micah froze as the prosecutor extended a hand toward him. The courtroom swiveled in unison. The whispers rose like waves. That’s the cemetery worker, the one who stopped the burial.
Judge Brooks nodded. “Mr. Micah Dalton, please step onto the witness stand.”..
