The sprinklers sputtered and died. The fire alarm cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
All they could hear was the drip, drip, drip of water falling from the chandeliers.
"He..." Beatrice's voice trembled. "He is warm."
Hermina struggled to her feet, cradling her dangling wrist. "It's the chemicals!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "Heat reaction! Don't touch him!"
Dr. Sterling, the family physician who had signed the death certificates, pushed through the crowd. He looked terrified.
"Dame Beatrice, please," he said, reaching for her. "This is disturbing the remains."
Delphine jumped up. She placed herself between the doctor and the old woman.
She tilted her head. She smiled a goofy, lopsided smile.
"Doctor bad man," she said. "Gave Cedric sleepy juice."
Sterling paled. "She's delusional."
He tried to shove past Delphine.
She grabbed the stethoscope hanging around his neck. She yanked it hard, pulling his head down, then ripped it from his ears.
She shoved the earpieces into Beatrice's hands.
"Listen to the butterflies!" she giggled. "Listen to the butterflies in his chest!"
Beatrice looked at Delphine, confusion warring with hope. She put the stethoscope in her ears.
"Let her check!" someone shouted from the back.
Sterling froze. He couldn't stop her without looking guilty.
Beatrice leaned over the coffin. She pressed the cold metal disc to Cedric's chest, right over his heart.
They waited.
One second. Five seconds. Ten.
Beatrice's shoulders slumped. The light went out of her eyes. She pulled the stethoscope away.
"Nothing," she whispered. "It's silent."
Delphine's stomach dropped.
No. She felt it. She felt the pulse. It was faint, but it was there.
"I told you," Hermina spat. "He is gone. Delphine is mad."
"We must close the casket," Sterling said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The body is degrading."
Two guards moved toward Delphine with a straitjacket.
She backed up until her legs hit the wood of the coffin. She reached behind her. Her hand found Cedric's hand.
She squeezed. She dug her nails into the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger. Hard. Cruel.
Wake up, you bastard.
The guards reached for Delphine.
Then she felt it.
A twitch. A distinct, sharp jerk of his thumb against her palm.
It was electric.
Delphine looked up. Her eyes locked with Hermina's. She dropped the smile.
"He pinched me!" she shouted. "The prince is awake!"
The guards grabbed Delphine's arms. They started to drag her away.
"No! He's alive! Check him again!"
They didn't listen. They dragged her across the wet floor.
