Roger hated water. Drinking it was fine, but swimming… Not for him. Not that it would have done him any good right now. The car windows jammed, the life hammer wasn’t in its usual place.

He would never get out of the car. Not alive.

The car sank further and further into the lake he so loved to go fish in. He searched for the life hammer under his seat, frantically hoping it would be there. It wasn’t.

Rupert probably got rid of it. He’d probably also wrecked the brakes.What other explanation was there for the nosedive into the winter-cold lake water? Rupert wanted his inheritance, and he’d soon get it, by the looks of it.

The water raised up to his chest. He wished he’d picked up his phone the moment it hit the water. He’d tried to smash the car windows with it. Now parts of it drifted around him. All he could do was wait for the scythe.

The car keeled over, and water rushed in fast. He took one last breath and waited.

Moments later he hovered above the water. A gentle girl’s voice said, “Come to me. I will help you.”

He cried out in rage.

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