I leaned over my granddaughter’s casket for one last goodbye. Then a quiet sound revealed a disturbing family secret no one was prepared for.

I forced myself to stop pulling and search instead. Beneath the padded lining, my fingers brushed something hard and cold. I reached deeper and found a small metal key hidden under the fabric.

The key worked.

I released Jessi and lifted her against my chest. She wrapped her arms weakly around my neck while every excuse Arthur and Patricia had given me during the previous months came rushing back.

“Jessi is sleeping.”

“The doctor says she needs privacy.”

“She becomes anxious around visitors.”

“You need to respect our parenting choices.”

I had believed Patricia was controlling and Arthur hated confrontation. I had told myself I was being the difficult mother-in-law, the worried grandmother who needed to back off.

Now my granddaughter was trembling against me inside the room where everyone expected to mourn her the next morning.

I wrapped Jessi in my black wool shawl and started toward the back hallway. My handbag and phone were still near the living room, but the old telephone in the laundry room was closer. I could feel Jessi’s breathing against my shoulder as I hurried away from the casket.

“Please don’t let them take me,” she whispered.

I got inside the laundry room, locked the door, and called emergency services. I told the dispatcher my granddaughter had been declared dead but was alive, feverish, and had been found inside her casket. I said I believed she might have been given medication.