Chapter 1: The Order
“Nobody leaves. Lock the doors.””
Ricardo’s voice cut through the chapel like a gunshot.
For one stunned second, nobody moved.
The funeral had been quiet until then. Quiet enough that the soft instrumental music drifting through the speakers seemed almost too beautiful for the grief sitting in the room. White lilies covered the front of the chapel.
Candles flickered beside the polished casket. Rows of mourners sat in dark clothes, their faces lowered, their voices reduced to whispers.
Then Bia had stepped forward.
Seven years old, small enough that the black dress her aunt had bought for the funeral hung awkwardly around her knees, she had clutched a worn stuffed doll against her chest.
No one had paid much attention to the doll.
Until she opened it.
Helena had been standing near the front row, one hand resting on the back of a chair.
When she saw the phone in Bia’s hand, all the color drained from her face.
“Where did you get that?”” Helena demanded.
Bia flinched.
Ricardo immediately moved between them.
“Don’t raise your voice at her.””
Helena stared at him.
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.””
The room grew still again.
Bia’s little fingers tightened around the phone.
“She hid it,” Bia whispered.
Helena swallowed.
“What?””
“The phone.””
Bia pointed toward her with a trembling hand.
“Helena hid it.””
A murmur traveled through the chapel.
Someone in the back whispered, “What is happening?””
Another voice answered, “I don’t know.””
Ricardo crouched beside Bia.
“Look at me.””
Bia did.
“Are you sure?””
The girl nodded.
“My mommy told me not to let anybody take it.””
Ricardo’s expression changed.
His eyes moved to the casket.
Then to the phone.
Then back to Bia.
“Your mother told you that?””
Bia nodded again.
“She said… if anything happened to her, I should give it to you.””
The air seemed to disappear from the chapel.
Helena took a step backward.
“No.””
Ricardo rose slowly.
“What did you say?””
Bia looked down at the phone.
“She recorded everything.””
Helena’s breathing became shallow.
“That’s impossible.””
Ricardo turned toward her.
“Why?””
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.””
“Then why are you afraid?””
“I’m not afraid.””
But her voice was shaking.
Everyone heard it.
A man seated near the aisle leaned toward his wife. An elderly woman crossed herself. Someone quietly pulled out a phone of their own.
Helena noticed.
“Put that away.””
The woman froze.
Ricardo looked around the chapel.
“No one records anything unless I say so.””
Helena’s head snapped toward him.
“You don’t get to control this.””
“Neither do you.””
Bia suddenly tugged Ricardo’s sleeve.
“Daddy?””
The word made Helena close her eyes.
Ricardo looked down.
“What?””
“She said not to play it where everybody can hear.””
Helena’s face tightened.
“See? This is ridiculous. A child shouldn’t be involved in adult matters.””
Bia looked directly at her.
“She said you were the reason.””
Helena went pale.
“The reason for what?””
Bia shook her head.
“I don’t know.””
Ricardo took the phone carefully.
“Do you know the password?””
Bia nodded.
She entered four numbers.
The screen lit.
There was only one audio file.
No photograph.
No contact list.
No messages.
Just a single file named:
MOM — IF I’M GONE
Ricardo stared at the words.
The funeral director approached nervously.
“Mr. Ricardo…”
Ricardo lifted one hand.
“Stay there.””
The man stopped.
Ricardo looked at Helena.
She was staring at the chapel doors.
That was when Ricardo understood something.
She wasn’t listening to the phone.
She was watching the exits.
His voice became cold.
“Nobody leaves. Lock the doors.””
The funeral director hesitated.
“Sir?””
“Now.””
Two attendants rushed toward the doors.
Bolts slid into place.
The sound echoed through the chapel.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Helena turned around sharply.
“What are you doing?””
Ricardo pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then came a woman’s voice.
Bia’s mother.
“Ricardo, if you’re hearing this, I’m already gone.””
Bia squeezed her eyes shut.
Ricardo’s jaw tightened.
The recording continued.
“I don’t know who I can trust anymore. I thought I did. I was wrong.””
Helena whispered, “Stop.””
No one moved.
“I found the account. I found the transfers. I found the messages. And I finally understood why my husband was so desperate to keep me quiet.””
Ricardo’s eyes snapped toward Helena.
“What account?””
Helena said nothing.
The recording crackled.
“There is one person who knows what really happened the night Daniel died.””
A gasp came from the back.
Daniel.
The man in the casket.
Ricardo’s older brother.
The official story had always been simple.
A late-night accident.
Wet roads.
A bad turn.
Nothing suspicious.
Nothing worth reopening.
Until now.
The recording continued.
“It wasn’t an accident.””
The chapel erupted in whispers.
Bia began crying.
Ricardo turned the volume down, but the voice remained clear.
“He was killed.””
Helena shook her head violently.
“No.””
The recording continued.
“And Helena knows who did it.””
Every eye in the room turned toward her.
Helena stumbled backward.
“You have to understand—”
Ricardo stared at her.
“You knew?””
“I didn’t kill him.””
“I didn’t ask that.””
She looked around desperately.
“That recording could be edited.””
Bia’s voice trembled.
“My mommy said it was all there.””
Ricardo looked at the phone.
For the first time since the funeral began, the grief on his face disappeared.
Something colder replaced it.
Determination.
He pressed play again.
The woman’s voice whispered through the speakers.
“If Helena tries to stop you from hearing this, don’t trust anything she says.””
The final sentence arrived with a sound that made Ricardo’s blood run cold.
A door slamming.
Then someone shouting.
Then the recording ended.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Helena stared toward the locked doors.
And from outside the chapel came three slow knocks.
Nobody spoke.
Three more knocks.
Ricardo stepped toward the entrance.
“Who is that?””
No answer.
Bia suddenly grabbed his hand.
“Daddy…”
Ricardo looked down.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
“He’s here.””
“Who?””
Bia stared at the door.
“The man Mommy was afraid of.””
The chapel lights flickered.
Once.
May you like
Twice.
Then went completely dark.
