The assistant's voice was hoarse as she gently reminded Brendan, "Mr. Brighthall, it's time. The car is waiting outside the door. We need to take her to the crematorium now."

Brendan's eyes flickered with emotions as he approached the coffin and gently uncovered the white cloth draped over the ice casket. Inside, the woman lay peacefully, her face pale. If it weren't for the absence of vital signs, one might mistake her for being alive.

"The burial is scheduled for 2:00 p.m. We should leave now," the assistant urged. "Since you feel indebted to Ms. McKinnon, let's prioritize honoring her and ensure that she receives the farewell she deserves by adhering to the optimal timing, allowing her spirit to find peace."

"I understand," Brendan replied.

He reached out his hand, attempting to touch her through an invisible barrier. In the next instant, his body convulsed with coughs, and he struggled to catch his breath. Blood trickled from his nostrils, thick and sticky. He tried to conceal