The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 714

Danielle sat at the edge of the bed, gently stroking her daughter’s hair. She was silent for a long time before finally speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. “Great-Grandma has gone to a faraway place, sweetheart. She’s like one of the stars in the sky now, always watching over you from above.”

Niki’s eyes grew red and shiny. “Will she still come back to tell me stories?”

Danielle shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. “No, honey. Death means we can’t see her anymore. We won’t be able to eat together, or talk to her like before.”

“But,” she added softly, brushing a tear from Niki’s cheek, “Great-Grandma’s love for you will always be here.”

Niki seemed only half to understand, but her tears came anyway, spilling down her cheeks like beads slipping off a string. “I don’t want Great-Grandma to be a star,” she sobbed. “I want her to come back…”

She buried her face in Danielle’s arms, her small body shaking with grief.

Danielle held her close, unable to stop her own tears from falling. She wanted her grandmother back too—wanted to hear her gentle reminders that “a girl should be strong,” wanted just one more taste of her homemade pot roast.

After Niki finally cried herself to sleep, Danielle quietly closed the door and stepped into the hallway.

The old house was strangely quiet, only the faint sound of prayers drifting up from downstairs.

No longer was Grandma sitting in the living room, greeting guests with a warm smile. No longer did Danielle hear her calling, “Ellie, come here!” from across the hall. The house, once so full, now felt painfully empty—almost desolate.

She used to think the old place was too strict, too full of rules and complicated people, that it pressed down on her like a weight.

Now she realized it had never been the Davidson family name or her role as Mrs. Alexander that kept her here. It was her grandmother’s unwavering, unconditional love.

And now, even that was gone.

Danielle walked to the top of the stairs, gazing down at the flickering candlelight from the parlor below, where the memorial was set up. Her eyes stung with fresh tears.

She didn’t know how long she stood there before footsteps sounded behind her. She turned to see Alexander approaching, a shawl draped over his arm. “It’s chilly. Here, put this on.”

“What are you thinking about?” Alexander’s voice broke the silence behind her.

She glanced back at him, feeling an ache in her chest she couldn’t explain.

She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to remember their past together, didn’t want to deal with the way he’d unexpectedly defended her today.

She turned away, her voice flat. “Nothing.”

Alexander walked over and stopped in front of her, his gaze landing on her tear-reddened eyes. He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly reached out and gently took her hand.

His palm was broad and warm, the touch achingly familiar. Danielle instinctively tried to pull away, but he only held her tighter.

“Danielle,” he said softly, his voice gentler than she’d ever heard it, “I know how much you’re hurting. Grandma’s gone, Niki’s hurting too, and you’ve been carrying everything on your own. You must be so tired.”