Ryan grew suspicious when his dog suddenly ran into the church and began barking at his father’s coffin. Sensing something wasn’t right, he approached, and when he opened the casket, he was stunned—it was empty.

Earlier that day, Ryan had stepped out of his car and stood silently outside the church, still struggling to say goodbye to his dad. “We couldn’t even give him a proper funeral,” he thought sadly. Just then, his dog Bella barked loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Ryan turned toward the car to see Bella looking more agitated than usual.

“Bella,” he called, using a hand signal to get her to lie down. She obeyed, and he gently stroked her head through the window. “Stay here, girl.”

Then he turned and walked into the church, ignoring her soft whines. His father’s closed casket was already at the altar, and the area was roped off since Arnold had died from a contagious illness.

Ryan sat beside his mother, knowing cremation was necessary because of how his father had passed.

When the funeral mass ended and the congregation stood to sing, Bella’s barking rang out through the church. She ran in, leapt onto the casket, scattering flowers everywhere, and barked furiously.

Then she dropped into an alert stance on the floor, staring directly at Ryan. His stomach turned—something was definitely wrong.

“Open the casket!” Ryan yelled.

Gasps filled the room, but he didn’t care. He rushed forward and opened the lid—his father’s body was gone.

“W-Where’s my brother?” Ryan’s uncle asked, staring at the funeral director in disbelief.

The shock overwhelmed Ryan’s mother, and she fainted. Thankfully, he caught her before she hit the ground and rushed her to the hospital.

Later that evening, at his mom’s house, Ryan called the police.

“The coroner confirmed the cause of death and sent the body to the funeral home,” said Detective Bradshaw. “Was your father involved in anything unusual?”

Ryan hadn’t worked with his father since launching his own dog training business, but he never imagined his dad would do anything to tarnish the family name.

There were no leads yet, but Bradshaw promised to investigate. Ryan, however, didn’t want to wait. With his mother at the hospital overnight and Bella safe at home, he headed to the morgue to search for answers himself.

“The coroner quit? What about the new one?” Ryan asked, shocked when the nurse told him there was no replacement yet. He asked to see his father’s file, but the nurse said it was against the rules.

Thinking quickly, Ryan laid $1,000 on the counter. The nurse looked away, and Ryan slipped into the coroner’s office. He scoured the files, but Arnold’s was missing.

Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Mr. Stevens, his father’s lawyer. He told Ryan he had just become the new CEO of Arnold’s company and needed to come in immediately.

At the office, Ryan logged into his dad’s Gmail account—only to find the inbox completely wiped. Someone had deleted every email.

“Ryan! Good to see you,” said Stevens, walking in and shutting the door behind him.

“Who’s been using this computer?” Ryan asked.

“No one,” Stevens replied.

Ryan looked around. “Where are the dancer figurines?” he asked. He noticed two were missing.

“Oh, Arnold took them home. He always wanted the third one, but the owner refused to sell it for less than $500,000,” Stevens explained.

That didn’t sit right. Ryan had been through the house—those figurines weren’t there.

Stevens shifted the topic. He told Ryan the company was drowning in debt, and investors were losing faith because Arnold had been skipping meetings for months.

“It all started when the new secretary came on board. Honestly, I think Arnold was romantically involved with her,” he added.

Ryan clenched his fists. He thought of how devastated his mother was. He wanted to confront the secretary, Miss Pearson, but Stevens advised against it—it would only damage Arnold’s legacy.

Instead, Ryan spent the day trying to stabilize the company and sent gift baskets to the key investors. That evening, he tailed Miss Pearson and watched her pull into a modest home in the suburbs. She was his only lead, so he stayed parked nearby.

Hours later, the garage door woke him. She was leaving. He considered following her but had a better idea. Before the door shut, he slipped inside the garage and found a way into the house.

He searched quietly, using a flashlight to avoid turning on the lights. In the bedroom, he found a photo of Miss Pearson kissing his father. He stayed calm—he was here for the truth.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a slightly open drawer in the coffee table. Inside was a Manila envelope. It contained Arnold’s $7 million life insurance policy—naming Miss Pearson as the sole beneficiary.

Ryan took it straight to the police.

“This is solid evidence,” Detective Bradshaw said. “We’ll look into Miss Pearson.”

As Ryan waited at the station, the detective burst in with officers. “She’s booked a flight to Morocco that leaves in 30 minutes! No extradition from there—we need to catch her now!”

Ryan wanted to go with them, but Bradshaw said he couldn’t. Still, Ryan followed them to the airport.

“Police! Let us through!” Bradshaw yelled as they reached the gate. Ryan stayed close, slipping past security with the group.

“You! Woman in the white shirt!” Bradshaw shouted. “Hands up!”

Ryan’s relief vanished as the woman turned—it wasn’t Miss Pearson.

Hours passed. She had vanished. Ryan was back to square one. But deep down, he believed his father was still alive. The missing figurines haunted him. He tracked down the collector who owned the third one and paid him a visit.

“How much for that?” Ryan asked, pointing.

“$750,000,” said Mr. Frederick.

“That’s well above market,” Ryan noted.

“Then don’t buy it,” Frederick replied coldly. “Price is firm.”

Ryan felt he needed the piece. He called Stevens and asked to sell $750,000 of company shares.

“You’ll lose control of the business,” Stevens warned.

“I understand. If I’m right, I’ll buy them back in a week.”

“As your lawyer, I shouldn’t ask why,” Stevens said. “But as a friend—does this have to do with Miss Pearson?”

“In a way, yes,” Ryan replied.

“She’s disappeared. Skipped work. Number’s disconnected. I’ll get you the money—just don’t ask how.”

Once the funds arrived, Ryan returned to Mr. Frederick.

“You asked for $750,000, and I’m paying it. Are you not a man of your word?” he challenged.

Grumbling, Frederick finally agreed. The figurine was his. Ryan made some calls and a final stop before returning to his mom’s.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “Bella misses you, and I haven’t seen much of you since the funeral…”

“I’m sorry, Mom. Please trust me—it’s almost over.”

That night, Ryan hid behind a pillar at the auction house. The final figurine was about to go on sale. He stayed anonymous, hoping his father would show.

“$600,000 going once…”

Ryan’s heart sank. He was about to lose both the money and the trail.

“…going twice…”

“$1 million!”

Ryan froze. He knew that voice. He looked up and saw Arnold at the back, removing his hat.

“Sold—to the man in the beige coat!”

Arnold turned to leave, but Ryan cut him off—and Detective Bradshaw handcuffed him.

“Ryan?” Arnold said, stunned. “You set me up!”

“You’re the one who betrayed us,” Ryan snapped. “You cheated on Mom, faked your death, and let us mourn an empty casket!”

Arnold admitted he wanted a new life with Miss Pearson.

“You faked your death for insurance money and ran away?” Ryan said. “You always told me to do what’s right—not what’s easy. I’m sorry you didn’t live by that.”

Detective Bradshaw promised they’d find Miss Pearson soon. Then the police led Arnold away.