The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 409

After Alexander dropped off the things on the 18th floor, he left with Millie. The two barely exchanged more than a few words.

They looked just like two strangers who happened to cross paths—helping each other out of simple courtesy.

Harold noticed the dynamic between them and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

He turned to Danielle. “You seem to know Mr. Davidson pretty well,” he remarked. “I’ve never seen him help anyone move their stuff before.”

Danielle lowered her gaze as she carried her belongings into the room, clearly unfazed by Harold’s comment.

“We’re not that close,” she replied calmly. “I suppose he’s just someone who likes to lend a hand.”

Harold didn’t push further. Instead, he helped her with the rest of the bags, carrying them inside.

“If you need anything tonight, just give me a call,” he reminded her as he set the last box down. “This is a resort area, and with it being the off-season, there aren’t many people around. It can get pretty quiet, so be careful staying here on your own.”

Resort towns like this were always a little remote. Outside of the busy tourist season, hardly anyone came around, and the emptiness could feel a little unsettling.

“It’s fine. I’ll be safe in the hotel,” Danielle reassured him with a gentle smile, thinking he was worrying too much.

Harold nodded slightly. “If anything comes up, call me. We came here for work together, so it’s my job to look out for you.”

“Thank you.” Danielle offered a polite smile. “It’s getting late. You should get some rest too.”

Harold had helped her a lot that day, maybe a little more than she was used to.

In truth, Danielle wasn’t entirely comfortable with a man being so attentive. She’d spent most of her life surrounded by few men, and all her thoughts had always centered on Alexander. Other men simply didn’t catch her attention.

Seeing the updates brought a smile to Danielle’s face.

It was gratifying to watch the project she’d poured herself into moving forward, each milestone a testament to her efforts.

At least it meant her hard work hadn’t been wasted.

If the test data had failed, all the systems would need to be recalculated, and hunting down bugs could be a nightmare. Sometimes you could check the code a hundred times and still not find the problem—all you could do was rewrite it from scratch.

She typed out a few quick replies, set her phone aside, and lay down to sleep.

Glancing at the window, she noticed the sheer curtains were still drawn, filtering the darkness from outside.