David: Where are you going, Evelyn?
Evelyn: I am not going to stand here and be humiliated by your family's madness!
David: Officer, don't let anyone leave this cemetery until this casket is opened.
The security officer immediately stepped into the path of Evelyn’s private car, blocking the door. The crowd fell into a total, heavy silence. The only sound was the howling Texas wind through the oak trees.
David reached down to the front metal clasp. With a sharp, metallic snap, he popped the double lock mechanism upward.
SFX: *CLICK-CLACK*
David: Help me lift this lid, Officer.
Security Officer: Grasp the left side handle, sir. On three. One... two... three.
They pulled the heavy velvet-lined lid upward. A collective gasp echoed through the mourning crowd. Several elderly relatives covered their mouths, stepping back in absolute horror.
Inside the silk lining, old Arthur Vance lay motionless in his dark navy suit. But his hands—which had been arranged neatly across his chest by the undertaker—were clutched tightly at his collar. The fabric of his shirt was torn slightly near the neck, as if someone had been clawing for air.
David: Dad... Oh God, Dad!
Leo: Look at his fingers! Look at his hand!
David leaned down close to his father's face. Small, tiny beads of perspiration were visible on the old man's upper lip, and his fingernails were scratched and scraped red on the inner velvet lining of the lid.
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