Chapter 8 Buried and Watched

• The air in the mortuary was cold enough to choke. Industrial lights buzzed overhead, casting shadows on the clean tiles. Izzy stood in black leather gloves, her coat flared open, boots tapping softly against the floor as two men wheeled in the dug-up body.
• Ben walked beside her, his jaw tight. Marcus trailed behind, wiping his forehead with a cloth. The scent of old soil clung to them all.
• The private forensic mortuary had been paid well for silence. The coroner, an older man with tired eyes and shaky hands, avoided Izzy’s gaze entirely.