Everest's Guardian Hubby Watched Me Freeze My Ghost Knows Where He'll Burn novel Chapter 30

Chapter 17

The staff member had been gone for nearly ten minutes before she finally reappeared. This time, she wasn’t alone—another woman accompanied her.

Neither of them carried anything in their hands.

Nicholas felt a sudden tightness constrict his chest, an invisible weight pressing down on him.

He forced himself upright from the chair, his legs trembling beneath him as he took a few unsteady steps forward.

“Where are her ashes?” His voice cracked, raw and fragile.

The two women exchanged a glance before turning back to him, their expressions softening with genuine sympathy.

“Mr. Sterling, I’m truly sorry,” one began gently. “I reviewed the records, and your wife left very clear instructions regarding the handling of her remains. We have already fulfilled her wishes. Unfortunately, there’s nothing here for you to take home.”

Her words struck him like a violent blow to the stomach.

The fragile thread holding him together snapped instantly.

His hands curled into fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His jaw clenched, rigid and unyielding. With a trembling hand, he pointed toward the folder they were clutching.

Noticing the sudden paleness washing over him, the women hesitated, clearly worried the contents might be too much for him to bear.

“Mr. Sterling, your wife is at peace now. You need to look after yourself. She would want that,” one said softly, her eyes filled with compassion.

Their sympathy spoke volumes to Nicholas.

He already had a sinking feeling about what the folder contained.

—

His vision blurred by overwhelming grief, yet he extended his hand to take the file.

With fingers that trembled uncontrollably, Nicholas opened the folder.

At the top of the page, three questions were printed in English.

Beneath each question was the same simple answer.

No.

Just two letters, stark and final. As he stared, the letters seemed to multiply and blur, merging into one another until they bled together.

He blinked hard, forcing his gaze downward to the next section—a longer sentence.

He recognized every word, but when he tried to piece them together in his mind, they dissolved into darkness before he could grasp their meaning.

There was only him and the snow.

Nicholas exhaled slowly, his breath forming a misty cloud that blurred his vision.

He hadn’t noticed when the snow started falling again, but now he could feel the tiny crystals settling on his eyelashes like frozen tears.

Tears.

But they weren’t tears.

Because Nicholas no longer had the ability to cry.

He gazed up at the pitch-black sky, his eyes unfocused, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell the difference.

He couldn’t tell if what was drifting down on him was snow.

Or if it was Elara.

Reduced to ash, scattered across the sky, gone forever.

All that remained for him was hope—a desperate, silent plea—that these sudden, ghostly blossoms of white would fall harder, heavier,

enough to bury him completely.