Murdered Four Years Ago, My Brother Exhumed Me

Introduction

Four years after I died, my brother dug up my bones with his own hands.

His name was Caleb Hart, and he was a homicide detective in Boston.

He'd seen more bodies than he could count, but he didn't recognize me at first glance.

The medical examiner kept it short. "Female, in her twenties, dead at least four years. She was pregnant when she died."

Caleb went quiet for a second because I'd been eight months pregnant when I went missing four years earlier.

But he quickly pushed the thought aside.

In everyone's version of the story, I hadn't gone missing at all.