The lid lifted with a soft creak, revealing Lily’s serene form. Her delicate pink dress was just as they had left it, and her face bore the innocence of eternal sleep. But then, the impossible happened. Her hand twitched—a small, almost imperceptible movement, but undeniable.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, and Anna Parker fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She reached out tentatively, afraid that the slightest touch might shatter this fragile moment.

“Lily?” she whispered, her voice breaking.