Something hard pressed beneath the back of my skull, and a sweet, suffocating perfume filled my nose.
Tuberose.
My mother always hated tuberose.
She said it reminded her of funerals.
Then I felt the rosary lying across my chest.
And everything inside me stopped.
Not my heart.
My understanding.
I was lying inside a coffin.
A real coffin.
Dark polished wood surrounded me.
