The Sealed Casket

The words of the service drifted over the crowd, slow and heavy. The workers approached the casket, ready to carry it toward the grave.

Addie couldn’t hold it in.

She didn’t plan it. She didn’t weigh the consequences. Truth hit her like a wave, and her feet moved before fear could stop her.

“Hey! Kid!” a security guard shouted, breaking into a run.

But Addie was quick in the way street kids are quick—fast because being slow costs you.

She reached the front, planted herself near the edge of the grave, and spun to face the crowd, chest heaving.

“STOP!” she screamed, voice sharp enough to cut through violin music and polite sobs. “DON’T DO IT!”

Everyone froze.