They Sent Me To Prison For Her, I Bought A Grave For Me Chapter 05

They Sent Me To Prison For Her, I Bought A Grave For Me Chapter 05

Crispin stood in silence as the workers finished burying Nimbus’s ashes.

A strange pain tightened in his chest.

Before Crispin could dwell on the feeling, the cemetery superintendent came striding toward them,

his white hair damp with raiti.

Amos Greaves looked furious.

“There’s been a serious mistake, “he said. His voice shook. “Plot 33 was never available for

reassignment. It isn’t for sale at any price.”

Crispin frowned.

“What are you talking about? It’s one burial plot.”

Mr. Greaves’s expression darkened.

“You think money gives you the right to take whatever you want? That plot belongs to a dying young woman, and you stole it from her.”

Crispin staggered back half a step.

“What did you say?”

His voice cracked.

“Who’s dying?”

He stared at the older man, desperate for him to take it back.

Instead, Mr. Greaves’s eyes filled with tears.

“Mirelle’s had a hard life.”

His voice turned hoarse.

“She came here looking for work a year ago. She was so thin she looked like a strong wind could

knock her over.”

“I asked why someone her age wanted to work in a cemetery. She thought I might turn her she offered to work without pay.”

Mr. Greaves swallowed hard.

“She said she didn’t have much time left. All she wanted was a place to be buried.”

“That was when she showed me the report. Terminal stomach cancer.”

Crispin’s face drained of color.

“What?”

The word tore out of him.

“What do you mean, terminal cancer?”

He lunged forward and gripped Mr. Greaves by the arms.

“How did she get sick?”

His hands were trembling.

It didn’t make sense.

He had made sure people at Westmoor kept an eye on her, even after asking her to take the fall for Jessa. Mirelle had always hated pain. If something had been seriously wrong, she would have told

him.

Wouldn’t she?

Then he remembered the bruises he had seen on her body.

He remembered her sobbing during visitation, begging him to get her out.

Why hadn’t he believed her?

The answer hollowed out his chest.

Mr. Greaves pulled free and looked at him with open disgust.

“What a damn tragedy.”

Jessa’s expression tightened. She quickly slipped her arm through Crispin’s.

“Mr. Greaves, did Mirelle put you up to this?” she asked. “She’s always been perfectly healthy. She just scattered my dog’s ashes, and now you expect us to believe she’s dying?”

Mr. Greaves shook with anger.

“There’s an entire pet memorial garden on the other side of the cemetery. You could have chosen any plot there.”

He pointed toward Plot 33.

“But you took the one place Mirelle had left. She came to me with a terminal diagnosis and begged

me to hold this plot for her. It was all she wanted.”

“Stop lying.”

Panic flashed across Jessa’s face.

“I paid a spiritual medium to choose this spot. She said it would help Nimbus cross over and return

in another life. I didn’t know it belonged to Mirelle.”

Her voice rose.

“And if she wanted it that badly, I would’ve given it back. You don’t get to lecture me.”

Mr. Greaves had spent most of his life working among the dead. He had learned to read the living

just as well.

He studied Jessa for a moment, then shook his head.

“Mirelle never caused trouble for anyone here. You drove her to the brink, and you’re still trying to

make her the villain.”

“What the hell are you accusing me of?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

Mr. Greaves cut her off with a cold look.

Then he glanced at the disturbed grave and sighed.

“You reap what you sow. When the consequences finally reach you, don’t pretend you didn’t earn

them.”

He turned and walked away.

Jessa glared after him with such hatred that, for a moment, she looked ready to follow.

Then she noticed Crispin watching her.

The look in his eyes stopped her cold.

Her face softened instantly, innocence replacing fury.

“Crispin, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I never would’ve taken the plot if I’d known it

was Mirelle’s.”

She tightened her hold on his arm.

“You know I tracked down everyone who dealt with her at Westmoor. They all said no one hurt her.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“The fact that she bought a grave just to manipulate us honestly breaks my heart.”

She sounded completely sincere, but for the first time, Crispin din’t believe her.

The unease in his chest kept growing.

He lifted a hand and stiffly touched the top of her head, but there was no warmth in the gesture.

“Enough.”

His voice was cold.

“We need to find Mirelle.”