Even after Her Death by Rita Bond

Chapter 108 Attending My Own Funeral

It felt strange. I had only spent a single day with him, so why was he so worked up?

Maybe he had drunk too much, I thought, but I didn't dwell on it.

Gently, I patted his back and said, "Mr. Bolton, about what happened earlier..."

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The man lying on top of me propped himself up with his arm, looking at me intently. His eyes lingered for a moment, finally settling on my forehead. The sadness in his eyes evaporated in an instant. Within moments, his expression returned to its usual coldness, tinged with disappointment and a subtle sense of loss.

"Sorry," he said, his voice distant and indifferent, as he moved away from me.

He slumped to the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His posture far from the usual strength and dominance he once commanded. Instead, there was an unshakable sense of melancholy about him.

In my memory, Carter had always been like a warrior-stoic, composed, and coldly defiant-even though he was disabled. He had never shown such vulnerability, or even a hint of weakness.

He didn't seem to care about how others saw him. He simply sat there, staring blankly ahead, as if he had no intention of getting up or doing anything else.

The atmosphere was heavy, eerie even, and I didn't know what to say.

"Well...

"You

We spoke at the same time. I quickly fell silent and waited for him to continue.

After a brief pause, he finally spoke. "Did you see her?"

I tilted my head, trying to understand who he meant by her.

Carter picked up a bottle of wine casually, his fingers tracing the bottle's shape. His head hung low as his voice came out raspy. "How did you know about the secret of the statue?"

After all, this was a huge loophole. With Carter's sharp mind, it was hard not to be suspicious.

Luckily, this matter was so bizarre that it couldn't be explained by logic or reason alone.

"Yeah, I replied, "Yesterday, when I saw the statue, I felt something strange, like a force pulling me toward

red mole on her forehead." Carter tightened his grip on

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Attending

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the time I was unconscious, I heard a soft voice. She said her name

such force that I winced. His grip

and soft, even

pain, confused

tone

couldn't understand why he seemed so invested in this, especially since we had barely

explanation I could think of was that he felt pity for me and my unfortunate

knew about it, and she wanted to leave. I hesitated, then added, "Mr. Bolton, I remember Luke's wife was named Chloe Sander, right? Could the woman in the statue be his wife?" Carter closed his eyes,

into a statue and placed it at the entrance of her house. What kind of person harbored such hatred for her? The cruelty of it

had no concrete evidence. This time, besides my death, I had to uncover Anna's

Luke, she could have stopped after

own

of wealth in recent years. Why did she

yes, but her loathing of Grandma was even deeper. There had to be a bigger plot

flicker of resentment. He said, "The police have already

unfortunately, even if we find the real culprit, it won't

won't matter,"

the true murderer will give her peace, even in the afterlife Perhaps my outburst was too intense. Carter looked

moment of weakness, Carter always maintained a sharp and rational mind. He was nothing like Luke, who blindly believed whatever

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108 Attending My Own

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sent a chill through me. For a moment, I almost revealed the

Chloe.

my tongue, but

was nothing short of a miracle for me to be reborn,

still an outsider. I knew that revealing my plan to him would