The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 228

“There aren’t many members left in the Fletcher family, so if we’re not the perfect hosts, please forgive us.” Leanne’s voice was soft, tinged with grief. “Now that the old man’s gone, the family is just…”

She trailed off, lowering her eyes and dabbing at her nose—a picture of sorrow.

“My apologies.”

The matriarch had always been close to Randolph.

It was true: the Fletchers had few relatives left, and even fewer of the younger generation.

There wasn’t a single capable son to take the reins.

Most of the guests who’d come to the funeral were old friends of the late Mr. Fletcher.

Bianca turned to Alexander and said, “Alex, you and Millie grew up together. Look after her, will you?”

With that, the adults moved on, leaving Alex to it.

They all expected him to support Millie; no one cared what Danielle, standing quietly to the side, might think.

Paula shot Danielle a glance. Danielle sat upright, her expression unreadable, cool as marble.

Paula stifled a laugh, keeping her face composed, though she suspected Danielle was barely holding it together inside.

It was clear enough: aside from Helen Davidson, everyone in the room was quietly nudging Millie and Alexander together.

And Alexander—he must have known today would be awkward, but he’d brought Danielle along anyway.

Now Mrs. Davidson looked like the punchline of a cruel joke, sitting there with that serene mask. Who could believe she was really unaffected?

After they were seated, Danielle watched Alexander rushing around, helping Millie greet the guests, as if he were already the Fletcher family’s son-in-law.

She calmly withdrew her gaze and sipped her tea in silence.

After all, Millie had wasted away so quickly after the tragedy; of course Alexander would be worried sick.

Paula looked at Danielle with a trace of amusement. She’d heard that Alex had gone to Danielle’s grandmother’s memorial a few months ago, but hadn’t stayed long—just enough to be polite.

Danielle really was good at keeping her composure, never letting anything slip.

But with the contrast now so stark, didn’t it make Danielle’s own grandmother’s memorial seem like a farce by comparison?

Surely Danielle could see the difference herself.

The way Alexander was acting now was worlds apart from how he’d behaved at Danielle’s family event.

Paula, watching Danielle’s calm face, couldn’t resist a dig. “A woman without some skills of her own will never truly win her husband’s heart, you know.”

Danielle, sitting quietly at the table, looked more like an outsider—almost a fool.

Didn’t her brother see what was happening?

He’d brought her here just to put her in her place, to make sure she understood her role and perhaps, with luck, take the hint and make room for someone else.

How could she still sit there with her head held high? If Paula were in her shoes, she wouldn’t have the nerve.

Paula leaned in, her tone neutral but her meaning clear. “My son’s been craving your cooking lately. After the funeral, come back to the house with us and make breakfast and lunch tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a request—it was a command.

Danielle looked up, about to reply, but the old lady spoke first.

“Danielle is the pride of the Davidson family. Who would dare make her cook?”

“She married into our family to enjoy life, not to wait hand and foot on everyone.”

Bianca arched a brow. “Mom, she’s here to enjoy herself, sure, but in a family, everyone pitches in. Danielle’s cooking is delicious. Why shouldn’t we all have a taste? She’s the younger generation, after all—showing respect to her elders is only right.”

Danielle rose from her seat.

“What are you doing?” Paula snapped, eyes flashing. “Don’t tell me you plan to defy your elders in front of everyone?”