Free Web NovelChapter 60: Chapter 60
Ella immediately seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire.
"Of course it was murder!" she snapped. "A ninety-year-old woman had no business undergoing surgery in the first place! I warned everyone years ago that Dylan was impossible to raise properly, but Mother refused to listen. Look where that blind faith got her. In the end, she was killed by the very grandson she devoted her life to raising!"
Alicia stepped forward as well, her voice dripping with malicious certainty.
"Dylan has always been cursed. The moment he was born, his older brother and mother died. Now even the grandmother who raised him has been taken from this world. Anyone close to him ends up paying the price."
Beside her, Steven sighed heavily, perfectly playing his role.
He looked toward Elise with what appeared to be concern.
"Elise, what Alicia is saying may sound harsh, but there is some truth to it." His expression turned solemn. "Not long after Dylan was born, my father consulted a fortune teller. The man claimed Dylan carried the fate of a solitary star, destined to bring misfortune to everyone around him. Think about it. Five years ago, didn’t you lose your twins because of him?"
The words finally drew a cold laugh from Elise.
The sound held neither amusement nor anger.
Only contempt.
"You can stop twisting facts and spinning ghost stories."
Her gaze swept across the group.
"The deceased deserves respect. I have no interest in arguing with any of you today. All I’m asking is that you behave like decent human beings and allow Grandma to leave this world in peace."
Steven frowned as though deeply wounded by her response.
He even sighed.
"I’m not trying to frighten you. We’ve known each other for years. I’m simply concerned about you."
"Your concern is the one thing I can do without."
Elise’s voice was calm, but every syllable carried unmistakable finality.
Then she turned toward Bruce.
"If you have doubts about Grandma’s surgery, I will personally ask the attending physician to release her medical records. The hospital can also provide the complete surgical documentation and procedure reports."
Her eyes remained unwavering.
"As her granddaughter-in-law, that is the explanation I am willing to give you."
Bruce’s expression darkened. He clearly wanted to continue the confrontation.
Before he could speak, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Everyone instinctively turned.
Oliver came running toward them. His usually composed appearance was gone, replaced by visible urgency.
"Madam!" He stopped in front of Elise, slightly out of breath. "My apologies. I’m late."
The moment Elise saw him, some of the tension pressing on her chest eased.
At least one capable person had arrived.
Oliver’s gaze briefly swept across Bruce and the others before returning to her.
"Madam," he said seriously, "Mr. Bennett couldn’t wait for approval of an international flight route. He boarded the earliest available flight home. Unfortunately, he has to transfer twice during the journey. The earliest he can arrive is tomorrow morning."
Elise finally felt a measure of reassurance.
At the very least, it confirmed that Oliver remained in contact with Dylan.
That alone was enough for now.
"Then let’s proceed with Grandma’s arrangements," she said quietly.
Oliver nodded.
"I’ve already contacted the funeral home."
The matter moved forward from there.
With Oliver overseeing every detail personally, there was very little left for Elise to manage.
Her role was simple: until Dylan returned, she would stand in his place as Mrs. Bennett.
As the granddaughter-in-law who had been loved and accepted by the old woman.
Mrs. Bennett had lived a quiet life during her later years. She rarely attended social events and seldom left home. Most of her siblings and relatives from her generation had already passed away.
At her age, death itself was not unexpected. Many would even call it a peaceful completion of a long life.
Yet the suddenness of it all still felt cruel.
She had left without warning. Without final instructions. Without a farewell. Without even a single last sentence.
That lingering absence left an ache no amount of acceptance could erase.
Meanwhile, Bruce arrived at the funeral home accompanied by his second and third wives, along with his children.
All of them wore mourning clothes. All of them carried carefully arranged expressions of grief. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Visitors who came to pay their respects would inevitably stop to offer words of comfort.
Every one of them accepted those condolences with convincing solemnity.
Only Elise remained apart from the performance.
As Mrs. Bennett’s granddaughter-in-law, she quietly watched over the others, her thoughts preoccupied only with grief.
Susan eventually approached her, unable to hide her concern.
"Young Madam, let me help you."
Elise shook her head gently.
"I’m not tired."
"But the old madam would worry about you."
Susan’s voice broke. Her eyes filled with tears once again.
"I never imagined that when everything was said and done, the entire Bennett family would amount to less than you alone."
Elise lowered her eyes, but did not respond.
Throughout the day, countless relatives and acquaintances came and went.
Many noticed Dylan’s absence.
Whispers followed. Speculation spread quietly through the mourning hall.
But Elise no longer had the energy to care. She had done everything she could. The rest was beyond her control.
Night eventually descended.
One by one, Bruce and the others found reasons to leave.
Earlier they had all spoken about keeping vigil for Mrs. Bennett through the night.
In the end, every one of them departed.
The only member of the Bennett family who remained was Elise. A woman who would soon no longer belong to the family at all.
Mrs. Lander stayed.
Susan stayed.
Oliver stayed.
Together they endured the long, oppressive night.
Heavy silence lingered over the funeral hall like a suffocating fog, but no further incidents occurred.
At last, dawn began to break. A faint gray light seeped across the horizon.
Then the sound of a vehicle echoed from outside. Moments later came the unmistakable rhythm of approaching footsteps.
Elise lifted her head toward the entrance.
Aaron appeared first, supporting a man beside him... A man whose face was deathly pale.
A man who looked as though he had been drained of every ounce of strength.
Dylan.
Elise glanced at him only once. Then she lowered her gaze and continued arranging the funeral flowers, as though he were no different from any other stranger entering the hall.
Dylan gently moved Aaron’s supporting hand away. Then he walked forward on his own.
When he reached Mrs. Bennett’s memorial portrait, he stopped.
The next second, a heavy impact shattered the silence. His knees struck the floor with a violent crack.
The sound echoed through the hall like a gunshot.
Dylan remained kneeling, his head bowed low.
The proud, unyielding posture that had always defined him was gone.
For the first time, his back looked bent beneath a weight too heavy to bear.
An unfamiliar scent drifted through the air, sharp and metallic––the unmistakable smell of blood.
Elise’s hand paused above the flower wreath, a white chrysanthemum flower trembling between her fingers.
