he moon cast long shadows on the gravestones as Jonathan’s shovel hit something solid with a thunk. A look of triumph passed over his face. Now he’d prove all those believers wrong.
He began prying the lid off, the nails popped out of the rotten wood easily. Jonathan took a deep breath, expecting to be overwhelmed by the stench of decay at any second. But it never came.
He stared at the contents aghast.
“It can’t be…”
All that remained of Dr Hurley was a perfectly preserved clutch of lilies and a bottle of his famous snake oil.